Handmaiden to Hera: A Tale of Iris
by romanov16
Summary: Brought to Olympus as a young child, the rainbow goddess Iris is determined to forge a place for herself in the world of gods and heroes. In doing so, she befriends temperamental Hera, Queen of gods, who takes her under her wing and treats her like a daughter. Despite being a peaceful free spirit in a war filled world, Iris will do everything in her power to protect her love ones.
1. A Fateful Gift

Obviously I don't own an ancient Hellenistic religion (Quite happy with the one God).

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_Why should not the glorious Rainbow be included among the gods? It is beautiful enough, and its marvelous loveliness has given rise to the legend that Iris is the daughter of Thaumas (Wonder) ~Cicero_

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Chapter I: A Fateful Gift

Sing Muse, of the sacrosanct slopes of Mount Olympus, the summits of its glories beyond the reach of the mortals called Men, and of how there was a _sound. _A resonance of purest revelry and merriment dripping down from on-high like sonorous dewdrops off a golden leaf, alighting for the briefest moments, a parched and famished land. It was song of such unabashed elation, unaware of even the remotest sort of suffering or pain, that to think such noise could have originated from _tympanum _beaters on earth was idiotic to the point of blasphemous.

It seemed to Men that the sky, the heavens themselves, were rejoicing, with all their considerable majesty and might.

Awed gasps resounded throughout a dozen fields of rippling barley wheat, causing the harvest gatherers, clad in scantly loincloths against the barbed, ray-shooting sun, to halt their labors in the middle of the day, just to hear the music. Their crude iron sickles, so similar in design to the one used, eons ago, by the young Lord of Time to cripple and unman Father Sky, slipped from callused, bone-worn hands into sun soft flesh of the earth mother's gently heaving breast. Besides them, the laborious brown oxen who had pulled the carts were standing still, in scared respect, their innocent eyes for once becoming wizened.

And a short distance away, before many a sun-dried, mud-clay shelters, mothers who hair was tightly bound with clothing strips felt their quick moving hands paused while kneading dough for evening bread, or as they reached too wipe their own child's tearful eye. The child himself had fallen silent. Dazed, Men of all tribes fell to their knees, thoroughly humbled as the notes violated their senses, intoxicating them like the finest of wine.

They knew beyond doubt that the new gods who now ruled the Mountain were celebrating –indeed, one would have to lack both ears _not_ to know this. But in living memory, never had a divine feast been so great that the _pathos_ of it rebounded down to them, scraps off the master's table to feed the dogs.

But some of the oldest among the elders, with their crooked backs wrapped comfortably in lined himation shawls, and whose gnarled hands trembled as they clenched their clay cups of _kykeon_, lifted up their unseeing eyes to proclaim that they had a notion to the significance of the heavenly occasion; a murmur deep down in their well-worn bones.

These oracles and wise men, through their various means of bone reading and smoke smelling, devised, discovered, and then told their families in fervent whispers that this was no mere gathering. This was a_ joining_, they claimed. An awaking.

The dawning of a new age was here, and it was indeed a wonder, the Old Ones marveled, chuckling and slapping their toothless gums, that they had lived to see it.

They said august tones that Zeus **_Aegiochos_**_ (Aegis Bearer),_ King of the Grecian gods, and Lord of hollowed Olympus, was taking for himself a new Queen. And for the first time...he was taking for himself a _wife_. And the gods from the seven corners of the world had come to pay tribute, and honor the match with both their presence, and their gifts.

With their sun-worn faces, and ever decaying bodies, the Men of Greece tiredly lifted their eyes to the forbidden slopes and tried to stop themselves from imagining the glories that were taking place, right above their heads...

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0)o(0

But in their the most fantastic of dreams, the minds of the mortals bound to middle plane of Ge couldn't have begun to envision the amount of pageantry that was being off-handily displayed, in the all-encompassing realm of the sky. In the whiten citadel, cloaked behind the sliver spun clouds and its gleaming walls of limestone, bronze, and gold, the deities of Greece and the rest of the world -many of whom had remarkable homes in their own lands- were gazing around like wide-eyed children as they took in the richness and majesty of the seat of Grecian power.

Their limbs dripped with heavy bangles of silver-gold, while from their necks and ears swung the finest specimens of amulets and lapis lazuli. Their lovely, yet occasionally ugly, forms had been clothed in chiffon sheets of linen (or nothing at all in some cases), and a variety of faces had been smeared with ornamented lines of kohl and henna, turning their loveliness into splendor...and yet all still managed to pale somehow, when compared to the radiant beauty of the future queen, that stood just before them.

They gathered in the greatest of hall before the stone _Thronos_, surrounded by twelve columns of quarried Epirus stone, which gleamed red in the light of the late evening with it's terrible promise of authority. Here in this hollowed chamber, the gods of the word witnessed their Greek counterpart accept possession of his fair bride, before leading her to the dais; where in mournful black robes, the _Moirai_ themselves were waiting to crown her, their gray lips pulled into an unsmilingly front. But the bride didn't pause, didn't hesitate, not even for a moment.

Because her back was turned to the crowd they couldn't glimpse the eagerness in her shinning eyes, or the cautionless hunger in her smiling mouth. It was constant and ever-present, even as she cordially bowed her head to accept the crown. But the _Moirai_ saw it, of course –for the daughters of Nyx saw _everything_. Everything that was, is, and was yet to be.

So later on in the night, the _Theai Arkhaiai_ _(Ancient Goddesses) _would dryly cackle over that, like the hags they truly were. But for now they held their peace and held their tongues. They said nothing nor felt the urge to, and this didn't surprise them. Why on Gaia's earth would it? Why would they speak? To what point and purpose would that serve? After all, they had _long_ known that this hunger -this heedless desire- was there. And they knew how it would end. They had known it before even the first of this goddess's two births.

The bride knew this too, which was why she hadn't bother to conceal it from them – a mark of intelligent on her part, the _Diantaiai_ thought vaguely, more so that they had originally figured. In turn, this earned for her their rarely given regard; due to the respect being shown to them by such a choice. The Relentless Ones had never thought highly of those who thought they could play them for fools.

But regard or no regard...just as the bride didn't pause in accepting her destiny _Moirai_ didn't -_couldn't_\- either. Seemingly without remorse they lowered the tall, cylindrical crown, and condemned the cow-eyed goddess before them to fate.

The moment the diadem touched her head, the crowd roared, a thunderous noise that shook the twelve columns holding the golden ceiling from the tile floor of Pentelikon marble. But _Moirai _themselves remained more stoic than statues carved of the same material; their withered features impassive, even while hidden in the dreary folds of their all-shrouding shawls.

Had this event taken place at some point in their youth, they might have sighed at the girl's obliviousness; which for a time had been the only outward manifestation of their pity allowed to them. But the day when they were young enough to think such things was eons passed, and they were far to experience now to waste the breath. Even if sometimes...they wished they could.

Now they had a different way of showing pity. For despite what the poets would say of them in their foolish epics, _Moirai_ was not heartless. Dutiful, yes. Unrelenting –certainly. Cold…_oh_ _frigid _was the better word.

But they were not heartless, nor were they pitiless. Even the harshest of fates were allowed their moments of joy and laughter; peace before extinction.

The _Moirai _had often debated this among themselves...silently wondering whether allowing such things were _truly_ acts of kindness...or ultimately crueler in the end. But nevertheless, they followed the same patterns throughout history, again and again. The universe did not seem to be unraveling around them, so if it wasn't braking, why fix it? Their pity made for some excellent stories if nothing else – _that_ was their reasoning.

And their pity for the white-armed bride (now the Queen) would make a great one.

With this in mind they returned their attention to the celebration around them, and waited.

Zeus _Koronides _was the image of Kingship, they noted absently, vaguely -and with as much enthusiasm as noting Helios' sun was yellow, or that Uranus's un-maned sky was blue. They saw that the embroidered folds of his purple himation had been draped around his waist, and over one arm, with pristine regalia; the designs enwoven upon its linen being those of the cyclops forged thunder-bolts. The very weapons that had titled Zeus _Thunderer_, and won him the war against his Titan predecessors.

The extension of his chest was left bare, to remind all present of the new king's youth (by gods standards that is) and vitality – as though his roguish grin weren't reminder enough. The diadem wrapped around his dark head was glowing with rays taken from the sun to testify to his power...as if the lighting shooting within his sky blue eyes didn't.

He certainly looked the part of the King, but it remained to be seen whether or not he would be a good one.

...though admittedly, _Moirai _mused silently, it _would_ be a feat indeed, worth of a great story, to be a worse king than Titan lord of Time; so whatever the Olympians got would be better than before. Zeus had a head start in that regard. But enough about him..._his_ stories were certain to be told. Great stories certainly, of exquisite majesty and resounding lore...but it was the unknown tales that caught _their_ eye.

So they turned their eye now, to rest on the former bride.

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0)o(0

Besides him now stood his new wife and proud new Queen - Hera _Leukolenos (the White Armed). _And here was where she would first lay eyes on a certain little goddess-child - right now during the conclusion of this wedding ceremony, if one were to be precise.

_Ah..._the wedding ceremony. Without doubt this wedding had been one of the proudest moments of her Deathless-life. She exhaled slightly at the thought...yes...yes, that was that right. It was the _proudest_ day of her life. Not the happiest. Nor the most content.

And _gods_ knew that this ceremony wasn't going to be one people remembered as the most _dignified_ of occasions. The only time the hall had been_ silent_ was when the vows between Zeus and herself were being exchanged, and now that those were over, the wedding feast promised to only enhance the resumed chaos.

Blushing slightly at the thought of such disorder, Hera lifted her chin and banished it from her mind. But today...it was the _proudest_. And with good reason too.

Today was Hera's crowning achievement, archfully planned and calculated over the last few centuries: the one that would be spoken of in the millennia to come. The one that _guaranteed_ her sacred name a shining spot amongst all eternity. Today immortalized her highest, holiest, and most glorious_ triumph._ It was the day she fulfilled the destiny that _Moirai _had spun for her, on the days of Hera's births; in becoming the reigning and undisputed Queen of Olympus, and consequently the Olympians.

And Hera _reveled_ in it, her smooth featured face glowing with the twin torches of supremacy and victory.

At long last endless years of plotting and scheming -of silly flirty smiles, and pinching her cheeks to redden them; of wearing _scandalously_ revealing gowns, and resisting Zeus' ardent efforts to bed her –had finally bore fruit. So now Hera had every intention of reaping in the rewards of her harvest...and now she could, for she now had the power. As well as the_ unquestionable_ _right._

If possible, her chin rose even_ higher_ into the air, to the point where her nose almost faced the ceiling (though she was carefully to keep just a few degrees below that point, wary of the ridiculous image that would present. She would _not_ be a laughing stock).

She was the _Queen, _she marveled, and her limbs shook with awe at the fact. She was now the highest ranking goddess in the newly forming _Pantheon_.

And while the marriage goddess knew, well enough in both troth and truth, that she did bear a strong measure of love for her new lord husband...she willingly confessed to her inner-most self that this affection was overshadowed by the mountain of superior devotion she held for the dignity of Rhea's gleaming circlet, the Polos diadem that now rested so carefully atop her tightly bounded chestnut-tresses.

Putting it bluntly, Hera loved it - loved it with the cool satisfaction of fulfilled purpose, and completed duty.

So there the Queen of Heaven stood, in the place her heart had always coveted, _always_ craved. She was atop the royal dais, elevated by all before the _Thronos_ of State. The marriage goddess was dressed to unequivalent perfection in a layered _peplos_ of cloud white linen, a shawl of gold having been tightly -_strategically-_ tied under her breasts and downward around her hips, to flawlessly emphasis the willowy slenderness of her waist, and granting the chiffon a number of attractive folds.

The nearly translucent fabric was held securely in place, at both her shoulders and elbows, by ties and a pair of sliver brooches. Meanwhile a stately himation of royal purple, matching that of her husband's –though _her's_ was embroidered with peacock feathers, rather than lightning bolts- adorned Hera's slim frame perfectly, like a vine clinging to a tree.

Having possessed the desire to add elements of her glorious _wealth_ and _prestige_ to her elegant dignity, Hera had, with help from her ladies, bedecked herself in the finest of jewels freshly minted from the workshop, the polished shine gleaming off Hera's sleeve-clad wrists, swan-like neck, and dancing like wind-chimes from her ears. Meanwhile, her original emerald orbs shined with the cool regality one expected of royalty; containing within them a brilliant fire of acute sharpness, though outwardly providing little warmth.

_Inside_ however...was another story altogether. Inside, Hera had to combat the absurd, and girlish urge to _squeal _as the gods of the world began to lay wedding presents at the feet of the bride and bridegroom.

And _such_ presents! Presents of the most magnificent kind!

From the slim hands of modestly Veiled Hestia, whose amber eyes had shone with all her best, deeply held wishes, Hera was given a clay oil lamp, with the promise from the hearth goddess that its flame was charmed to changed color, to revel either one's honesty…or treachery. Dear gentle Hestia… Rhea's soft-hearted eldest daughter was Hera's favorite, dearest, and most beloved sister, who had given the gift with a smile…she couldn't possible have known how much pain that candle would give her.

From the clever hands of Golden-Haired Leto, Hera received a collection of exotic frogs, trained to sing in harmony. Later when that whore slept with her husband, Hera would take great pleasure in crushing those unfortunate creatures underneath her saddled foot.

The shy hands of Blue-Eyed Maia had offered her a bouquet of rare flowers, which were only able to grow on the slopes her father's significantly more infamous mountain. And when _that_ whore slept with her husband, Hera would burn that bouquet to cinders in her rage.

By the cautious hands of Reserved Selene, with her moon-white cheekbones, he Titan goddess graced the Queen with a necklace of gleaming sliver and moonstones. And when_ this _whore slept with her husband she…oh forget it.

These gifts were given and many, many more. Gifts of the finest cloths and jewelry. Of the exotic perfumes and spices. Of potions and fruit trees that bore further immortality, and charms to damn her enemies. But only one gift would prove to be invaluable -_irreplaceable._ Only one would be proven as completely, absolutely and utterly_ priceless_. Surprisingly, _Moirai_ seemed to have decreed that it would be Poseidon _Tavreios' (The Bull) _gift. _Poseidon_ of all deities.

Even eons later, Hera would shake her head at it. It was inconceivably, truly it was.

When the King of the Sea came strutting up before the _Thronos _in his green achiton, smugness had been engraven on his sun-brown face, to such an extent that the marriage goddess had arched a haughty eyebrow almost to her hair-line, upon seeing that the god's free hand was empty of any gift whatsoever. _What game does he think he's playing at? _she wondered bemusedly, while she waited for an explanation. This would be good.

"Where is your gift to my wife, Brother?" Her husband demanded to know, the flashing of his eyes and the warning in his tone declaring that he would allow no disrespect -no matter how small- even from his kin; and Hera's heart _swelled_ to see the quickness with which Zeus sprang to defend her honor.

But rather than looking intimidated, or enraged, as Hera had thought he would...the great teal-eyed sea god instead grinned broadly, quirking his eyebrow in a flamboyant way.

"My gift for the Queen is waiting outside, shall I summon her?"

_Her?_ Hera repeated to herself, with a healthy bit of incredulous distrust. Biting the inside of her cheek, she tried and failed to banish a brief burst apprehension from her sculpted features. What, _what_ on Grandmother Gaia could Poseidon have gotten her? A _pet_ of some sort? Her thoughts whirled as she considered the possibilities. She had never been overly fond of animals, with very few exceptions.

...Could...could her gift actually be one of those strange new beasts -those _horses_\- that the Earthshaker had recently created from the tumbling waves of his ocean, and was forever bragging on about?

If so...then Hera wasn't sure how she felt about that. She quickly began to juggle the odds in her head. True...the beasts _were_ beautiful. Beautiful in the way that the gods by their nature always longed for - always _craved._ That no one would _dare_ deny.

But from what she had personally seen of them, Hera had gotten the sense that their sprits still carry aspects of the untamed sea within them, and would thus be as rebellious and troublesome as their maker -if not more so. And Hera had a very strong abhorrence of things she couldn't organized or controlled.

With that her mind was made up. _Please Gaia, don't let it be a horse, _she silently prayed.

"Yes, yes summon her," Zeus ordered impatiently with a flick of his hand, though it was clear that he himself was curious.

Well with that, the Earthshaker brought his triton down onto the palace floor, the noise resonating throughout Olympus...and probably down to the mortal villages that rested at the mountain's based.

_Subtle as always, _the Queen thought sardonically. _Very tactful._

For a moment, _absolutely nothing_ happened.

Just as Hera -and the rest of those assembled there- began to feel that Poseidon had somehow dared to trick them, a sharp gasp was heard from the back of the hall, near to the doors. It was quickly followed by a series of others, and to Hera's irritation, she couldn't see what was causing it over the heads of so many gods.

This become a nonissue, however, when the crowd parted like grass in Zephyrus' Wind in order for her gift to make its way to its giver's side.

Hera's mouth actually fell open. _Oh…oh my._

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Coming forward towards the dais…was a child-goddess. A very _young_ child-goddess, and Hera knew she was a goddess and not a nymph due to the fact that only by divine ichor alone could one be blessed with such beautiful golden wings, currently tucked tightly against her thin shoulder blades. She appeared around the mortal age of... _twelve,_ Hera would wager; considering that her youthful frame was still clothed in a short coral-pink chiton_, _the hem lapping against her bare knees like retreating sea foam.

On her brow the girl wore a diadem adorned with flattened sea pearls, one that was a size too large for her to wear properly –Hera knew this from the way the child's quick hands kept adjusting it, her delicate features expressing an annoy frustration – with matching sets placed on her wrists and ankles so that they jingled like fetter. Despite this, she was a lovely little thing.

If rather..._unique looking._

Hera blinked to make certain she wasn't seeing things. Though the child's skin was relatively normal –her complexion being the light olive shade commonly found amidst the Grecian deities– her loose hair was…putting it bluntly...rather _eccentric_. Now, the top of it was a most appealing shade of ambrosial gold –like the darkest honey– but from her ears downwards certain strands of it were an utter _barrage_ of color, more so than the scales of ocean fish: Blue and Green. Yellow and Red. Just to name a few.

Then there was the child's _eyes. _Large and luminous, they made up three-fourths of the girl's face, and were an enchanting shade of purple and blue –azure one moment, violet the next. They sifted like the ocean, vast and deep, and _piercing_ in their intelligence. The White Armed could tell that they were, by the way the varicolored orbs sweep over the hall and took its stock; then weighted it, measured it, before determining her course of action. And she determined it now, with every step she took towards the dais. Looking into the little girl's gaze was like peering down into a spice jar that held only gemstones...and a good deal of wisdom too.

Therefore, all in all...Hera had to conclude that the girl _was_ a lovely child. One who was sure to grow into a beauty, as did every goddess.

But this little one, Hera felt with a quickening of cunning, had the potential to become a _valuable_ beauty –and of considerable worth– if her mind could be cultivated to grow alongside her other charms.

_Poseidon_ clearly seemed to know this as well, or at least had a hint of it, if one were to judge from his immensely satisfied expression. Frankly, it made Hera wonder whether or not the Earthshaker was _pleased_ to be rid of her...which in turn made the White Armed ponder all potential reasons why. It was clear that the child was not incompetent, or Poseidon would never have dared to present her as a gift.

What was clear was with obvious pride that the sliver-haired god pulled the girl in front of him, placing his hands on her shoulders in an effective show of ownership -effetely halting the whispers that were bubbling up from the crowd about _who_ _the girl_ _was_, and who her parents could be. The Bull was enjoying the suspense.

"Your Majesties, may I present my gift to Queen Hera," he announced at long last. And not a moment too soon as Hera was a breath away from demanding the child's identity.

"This girl here before you is Iris, the firstborn daughter of Thaumas," Poseidon announced with no small amount of flare. "-who as you know, I overthrew to rule the Sea."

_Iris._

Ah. Aha. Yes, that would explain it, the older goddess' realized. No ruler wanted the remnants of a pervious, and_ defeated,_ household to linger on long within his own. It simply couldn't be. They either had to be adapted in, or casted out. Or else locked away altogether. And seeing that the girl was too young to be married in or off… Hera was quick to notice that the child winced at the reminder of her father's defeat, though she was quick to regain control. Meanwhile the entire hall had erupted in excited mutterings.

_Thaumas' daughter! _

On the slopes of Olympus, the child was already something of a legend. As the story went, the minor goddess willingly volunteered to serve the Olympian gods as their messenger, in the horrendous battles of the ten-year Titanomachy, _after_ her twin Arke had defiantly raced to perform the same function for the Enemy. That little wretch had been punished severely for such an offence - but that was another story.

Since Iris was little more than a toddler at the time, and therefore small and un-suspicious looking, she had been successful in conveying messages across the brilliant road her sire had gifted to her, the day his daughter had been born. That exceptional service was the only reason she was not currently in Tartarus like her sister, and every other traitor.

"-and ever since my victory," the sea god continued on. "Thaumas' family has lived under my roof, this child serving as a handmaiden, and her mother Electra-"

Here Poseidon's smile turned into a smirk, and there was no mistaking the predatorily gleam that cross his eyes.

"-Her mother Electra serves in my bed, and will soon bear my son."

Amidst the resulting wolf whistles, and her husband's roaring laughter, Hera saw Iris' wince turn into an all_-_out flinch. She saw the girl's face flushed with a shame a child shouldn't have to feel. Normally, Hera would have been laughing with the crowd at the wretch Electra's humiliation…but this time she found that she couldn't, not when said goddess' daughter looked like she was trying her hardest not to cry.

But multicolored liquid had soon gathered at the corners of her eyes, regardless of the girl's wishes. But she earned Hera's approval when she quickly wiped them away, rather than let them fall.

Now if she could only learn to hold them back altogether, then that would be something...

"I give the child to the Queen to be her own personal handmaiden and messenger, seeing that Iris already has expertise in that area. She is clever and obedient, and has the required purity to serve the Queen of the Gods," Poseidon declared. Then his face turned sly. "Is it not true that the bride is now in need of one?"

"...Yes it is," Hera replied delicately, after taking a moment to gather her wits. Her mind whirled. A handmaiden...this colorful slip of a girl... was to be her handmaiden?

"That has a nice ring to it," Zeus mused thoughtfully, stroking his beard.

Caught up in the merriment, the Lord of the Sky raise a hand and made a sweeping arch (crudely similar to the child-goddess' archway) announcing in a loud voice, "_Iris, Personification of the Rainbow and Handmaiden to Hera_…a much kinder fate than either her sister or her parents. Let it be written, and let it be done."

Glaring down at the child with fading interest, the King of the Gods inclined his head in his wife's general direction.

"Well go on girl -go up to your Mistress," he said in a bored tone, with a lazy smile.

Snapping to attention, the child-goddess sucked in a deep breath, as though she was about to be submerged into dark, and uncharted waters. Swallowing hard, Iris' fingers grasped her chiton in a death grip as she climbed up the dais towards her fate, those vivid doe eyes wide and_ fiercely_ alert, as though they had caught sight of the hunting hounds.

Coming to stand before the Queen of Olympus, the girl dropped to her knees.

"My Queen and Lady Mistress, it would be an honor to serve you all my many days," she muttered, in such a careful and formal way that it was obviously rehearsed...but rehearsed in such a way, that an approving hum began to rise up at Iris' dignity and pose.

Such _form_ for one so young, they marveled. Such grace and maturity as well! All were impressed, and no one more so than the Queen herself.

_...Clever child, _Hera thought amusedly, feeling the beginnings of a smile tug at her lips. _She's young...but that's what I was looking for. I'll be able to build her up. With a little time and polish...she could be perfect._

Gazing down at the kneeling child-goddess, Hera felt the first stirrings of some strange affection for the girl…a sort of mad desire to guide and nurture the little one, and teach her the ways of the world.

Feeling herself soften in a way she never had before, Hera was reaching down to Iris before she knew what she was doing. Taking Iris' chin in her hand, the Queen gently tilted it upwards, and peered down into that delicately featured face that was filled to the brim with intelligent sweetness…but also a distressing amount of fear.

Hoping to relive some of that fear, Hera graced the child with a smile, one filled with genuine warmth.

"I accepted Iris, the daughter of Thaumas, into my service," she announced out loud to the crowd. "I trust that she will fulfill her duties faithfully, and be a joyful delight in my household. Thank you, my Lord Poseidon, for a most thoughtful gift indeed."

The crowd immediately began to cheer again...and behind them, unnoticed by all, the _Moirai's _lips had twisted themselves into what might have been smiles.

Yes...the good and bad aside, their pity certainly made for excellence stories. And that was reason enough to allow it no? Unlike most deities, their existence was _not_ one of unending leisure. They needed _some_ amusement for themselves, every now and again. Was that truly so bad?

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**Reviews make me happy, so tell me what you thought and I'll update sooner.**

**I've always like the thought of Hera and Iris having a mother-daughter relationship. Hera needs a female friend. Also how did you like how I wrote the Fates?**


	2. Tuck In

Horesyfan: thanks for saying you love my writing style! I hope you like this new chapter.

Wishbone95: here is that update I promised you. Hope you like the characters' personalities

Caliope07: Thanks for saying you like Hera and Iris as a mother daughter team. here is more of that!

Anastasia the goddess of drama: I'm so glad you love it!

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Chapter 2: Tuck In

The wedding feast that followed was a spectacle of pomp, and more illustrious than anything yet seen on the surface of Grandmother Earth. Immediately after the conclusion of the gift-giving, Zeus had graciously lead the entire assembly of deities from the solemn _Thronos_ hall to the reception courtyard, it's lively crimson-gold tiles having been polished by servants so that they shone in the torchlight. Underneath The Thunder's glorious midnight sky awaited a feast of Ambrosia and Nectar, graciously spread out on low hanging banquet tables. The gilded surfaces had been covered at the last minute with a material that was softer than clouds, and shone brighter than the finest jewels.

This most intrigue gift had been bestowed upon the newly-weds by one of the ever-peculiar gods that hailed from the Far East. Lady Hsi-Ling-Shih was her name, _Leukolenos_ believed. She had called the shimmering cloth..._oh _it was just on the tip of her tongue...silk_. Yes, that was it, _Hera thought in triumph, pleased that she'd remembered.

A marvelous invention to be sure. In the whirl of her mind, the new Queen of the Greek gods decided that instead of sending an emissary, she would personally offer her thanks to said the pale, regal-eyed goddess -perhaps that would give help make way for further negotiations with her eastern kind. It would be delightful to have some more of that _divine_ material, and make some additional dresses. But back to the matter at hand.

Her heart full to near bursting, Hera breathed in a proud breath when she and her husband reclined together on her dinning couch -know as a_ kline_\- at the main banquet table; her movement well rehearsed to rival the gracefulness of a bird settling on her perch. Propped herself up on one outstretched arm, she was free to observe the room that her sisters had banned her from for more than a week. Thoughtfully, the marriage goddess recalled with some embarrassment how that probation had irked her at the time (and still did, if she were being honest).

She was to be crowned_ Queen_. What right did Demeter or Hestia have...to leave something as momentous as her wedding feast in the hands of planning, tittering, broad-leg nymphs? In all honesty, she'd thought they'd lost their mind. But Zeus had agreed with them, so the White Armed had been over ruled. But that hadn't prevented her from fretting about it, until she was in a near state.

However...now Hera had to admit it; she'd truly enjoyed what a marvelous surprise it'd turned out to be. The twelve portico columns of the courtyard had been decorated with garland ropes of apple blossoms and _agnos_ braches, their sweet sent perfuming the air better than any incense could. Meanwhile, walls surrounding the tall pillars had been engraven with flowing mosaic depicting the Olympians' battles with the Titians, in chronological order. Naturally, that meant the masterpiece ended with the Zeus defeating the mad god Cronus, and tossing him into Tartarus.

Shuddering at the memory of those blood-soaked times, the marriage goddess closed her eyes, and opened them quickly; blinking away the images of monsters and demons baiting for her ichor. Those had been trying days...full of all encompassing fear that each and every moment could be their last. That the Titan lord could one day return them to the Dark...

Hera closed her eyes again, and banished the thought. It did not matter what they had thought then...they had won the war, and would live the remainder of their deathless-lives in glorious Light and splendor_._ They were safe now, and in safety they would remain. Hera would see to it.

Torches and bonfires were spread out for lighting around the edges, open for dances to take pace around the small pool built in the middle of the yard. At their Majesties summons, a trio of wispy haired air-nymphs stood in the corner, which each of them taking up an instrument; one claimed the forty-stringed epiogonion, carefully balancing it's triangle frame on her small knee, while her sister grasped the delicate, ivory decorated phorminx. In sharp contrast to its bulky neighbor, it's tender frame was light enough for its owner to stand whiles playing it. But the leader of this trio held nothing. Her instrument was her voice, and it sang out in ringing tones with the clearness of summer breeze, praising the gods and their glory.

With such lovely notes to tempt them, the dancing space filled up with remarkable quickness. Or maybe not so remarkable. If there was one thing in this world that the Olympians enjoyed (besides fighting and cursing the mortals that is) it was _celebrating_. Even the foreign deities were coaxed -or coerced- to joined it, their bodies sway comically to the unfamiliar music. But with a little assistance, they adapted.

It was a merry scene, and the Greeks delighted in bedazzling their honored guests with the vast amusements that could be gained at one of their feasts. With a clap of the hands, more nymphs of various sorts could be brought force to dance before the deities who'd elected to remain on their couches; the sheer cut of their linen shifts reveling the enticing curves of their breasts and legs. Needless to say, this was more for the lords of the world. But the ladies were not forgotten. For them there were brawny oil-rubbed satyrs; curls wild and eyes lustful, who on command chased the nymphs in a ritual dance, stomping their hooves to beat of the musicians' rhythm. Others juggled everything from brightly painted balls to flaming sticks, or else were tumblers; performing elaborate leaps and flips.

Oh yes, it was a marvelous affair, and Hera beamed broadly at her sisters from across the room, for the pains they had taken to arranged it all. She didn't know how she would ever repay them. From their own_ klines_, they smiled back at her with knowing eyes, and tipped their cups over to pour a few drops of nectar onto the ground, in a subtle salute to celebrate her authority. Watching them pour libations for her caused_ Leukolenos'_ throat to close with suppressed emotion, and she quickly poured a libation to each of them in turn. The Eldest and the Rich Haired gratefully bowed their heads.

* * *

0)o(0

But as the night wore on thing admittedly got a little…_out of hand_. Just a bit. But then a lot.

At first everything had been fine -excellence even. Nearly everyone had been behaving as though they were the deities of halfway civilized peoples, and mortal food of roasted pig stuffed with eggs and chicken breast, the honey glaze melting down it's sides, looked _deliciously _rich, as more satyrs-servants bore it in, and the wine exquisite…

Ah, Hera thought tiredly, and _there _was the source of the following problems. The wine. The White Arm knew very well that to many cups of either wine or nectar could reduced any ill-designing men -god or mortal- into blind beasts that viewed any fair women as prey -willing or not.

But thankfully, tonight many of the ladies (though Hera hesitated now to use the term) seemed_ more_ than willing to be allow whatever handsome god flung them, quite literally, over their shoulders. They carried them off, squealing with glee as they vanished into the night. Then again, that could perhaps be blamed on the wine as well.

Well whatever the cause, Hera had the distant sense that tonight would result in the conception of many future deities.

And tossing a shy glace at her husband, peering at him from around the golden apple she'd raised to her lips, the Queen realized that if she was lucky, _she_ would be among that number. As though he'd read her mind, Zeus suddenly turned to her, and took her small white dove hand in to his own large one, pressing a kiss to its palm.

"My Queen," he murmured, smiling at her with a gleam in his zestful blue eyes. "Are you excited for tonight?"

Hera could feel herself blushing, though for what reason she certainly didn't know. It wasn't as though she were a virgin; Zeus himself had seen to that when he'd tricked her into taking his disguised self into her arms, thinking he was a helpless bird caught in the rain -rain that the thunder god had conjured for his trap. The rouge.

Immediately he transformed back into his true form, and Hera had been caught, like many other women before her. Oh, that was not to say he had taken _advantage_ of her -part of Zeus' power was his ability to beguile the fairer sex of their senses, and make them submit.

But Hera had been smarter that those other whores. She had thought ahead, and had demanded that the King honor fate and marry her, making her his Queen by default. Thus, _Leukolenos_ had saved her reputation, and achieved her dearest ambition, all in the toss of a single stone.

"Yes indeed husband," was her prim yet teasing reply, as she carelessly tossed her apple aside. The White Arm snatched a piece of honey cake from the platter that lay before them, holding it to his mouth in sly offering.

Chuckling, Zeus took it, and leaned over to give her a full kiss on the mouth before leaving her side to make conversation with some of the guest who were calling to him. Curious, Hera leaned back and observed them. To judge from the dark skin, and the beaded gowns of the women, they seemed to be the deities worshipped by the Egyptians...praise Olympus that they decided to appear in their humanoid form tonight rather than those _grotesque_ animal heads. But then again, Hera suppose they were better than those blood thirsty Norse gods...though Moloch of the Canaanites currently had even _them_ outdone, his eyes still blazing with the fires that his worshippers were forced to surrendered their children too.

Hera shuddered. It was quite apparent that not everyone match the glory of the Greeks.

For a while The White Arm watched her husband go about the room, following his mass of night black hair in an almost protective manner. One couldn't be to careful with husbands...but she was interrupted from her self-appointed task when a small presence appeared at her side.

"...Mistress?" asked an uncertain child-high voice.

Blinking back to the present from the realm of her thoughts, Hera turned her head to see that Iris was standing besides the _kline_, peering down with those wondrous eyes of hers. The girl was swaying on her feet with her eyelids half closed. She looked ready to fall over then and there, curl up, and go off to the sleep that gods rarely needed.

"I'm sorry Milady, but I just can't stay up any longer," Iris murmured quietly, wringing her hands and proving her point when a yawn escaped her mouth with her next words. "May I please go to bed?"

Hera could have struck herself. She had completely forgotten about the young rainbow goddess as the night's…_activities_ had gone on. And Iris was the only child present: the poor girl had to be utterly exhausted.

"Of course you may," Hera told her gently, dismissing her new Handmaid honorable. Throughout the night the girl had indeed proven herself to be as obedient, prudent, and quick-witted as Poseidon had claimed her to be - Hera supposed that the showboat_ would_ occasionally know what he was talking about, rare though the occurrences were. She had earn her leave, and a good night's rest.

But when the child-goddess made no move to walk away, and merely shuffled her feet, Hera arched her eyebrow; and grimly she wondered if there wasn't some sort of additional treat the girl was hoping to yet receive. That certainly wouldn't do. It wouldn't do at all.

"Is there something_ else_ child?" Hera asked, with noticeably more bite to her tone than before. Iris flinch at hearing it.

"...yes my Queen, there is," the child murmured. "I-I don't mean to be a bother, but I don't know where my room is yet," Iris muttered in a rush, her thin shoulders hunching as she finished speaking, as though she half-expected to receive a blow.

Hera felt her eyes widen, and she marveled at her stupidity this night. _And I hadn't had a sip of the wine! _For a moment her face flushed, but _Leukolenos _was quick to smooth it into the composed stillness of an untroubled pond.

"I see...I'll show you the way then," the Queen replied calmly. With that said, the older goddess nimbly swung her legs off her couch, and rose to her feet. "Come along," she added briskly, holding out her hand for Iris to take, after she'd finished smoothing the winkles from her dress.

Looking as though she were trying –and failing- to keep her jaw from dropping, the child did as she was told, and slide her hand into Hera's slightly larger one. Maneuvering them with quick, decisive steps through the bawdy crowd, Hera paused only to smiled and nodded graciously to the few sober gods that stopped and bowed to her; Hestia, Hades, and Prometheus being the first among these ones.

As they left the reception courtyard, and walked down the moon-lit halls, Hera's instincts prompted her to tuck the child-goddess against her side to shield her from the worst of the debauchery taking place in the darken corners were the torch light didn't reach. She then processed to bluntly cover the girl's ears when they passed rooms were excited _thuds_ and _sounds_ were bouncing of the walls.

The Queen tried hard not to scowl as Iris turned red, regardless of her efforts. Really now, this was her _wedding_! Not an orgy, or a free-for-all! Exactly when had the Palace of Olympus become a _whorehouse? _This was her _home, _this was her Household. She was responsible now for maintaining it's dignity.

Pushing such thoughts aside -she would be sure to take them with her lord later- she led Iris into another courtyard at the edge of the palace, this one much more demurred than the one they had left. In the light of Selene's moon, the benches, pool, and _Melia_ trees were casted in translucent shades of blue. Once, this courtyard had housed the chambers of the Olympians themselves, back when they had first constructed their home after the war.

But latter one, Zeus had grown weary of it, and decided to build a new one closer to the center of the palace, naturally with his own chamber elevated above the rest. Of course when their king had moved, the rest of the Olympians had followed...Hera a bit reluctantly, and with regret, for she'd been fond of this courtyard. Perhaps it was foolish, but this place had been the first space she could honestly called her own. Of course, she had no use for it now as she was married; she would sleep at Zeus' side for the rest of her days. For all eternity, she thought with an odd, and sudden boding of trepidation.

A strange, superstitious, primitive part of her psyche felt that she was inviting some foulness upon her, in returning to what had once been the royal courtyard. There was a strange whisper in her Power that was saying this was where you'd began. Why were you so eager to leave? Have you any idea of what waits for you there?

Hera scowled, and blew air out her slim nose in a haughty sniff. Rubbished. It had always been her destiny to Rule undoubted. She could not challenged that, nor did she wish to. So that didn't stop her from bring Iris right to the door of her old room.

"I think you'll enjoy it here," Hera informed her charge as she pushed open the door.

Iris gasped.

* * *

0)o(0

While the room wasn't large, and admittedly rather empty at this point, Hera knew that the little goddess couldn't deny that it was _beautiful._ Pearly white in color, elegant paintings of birds and fish decorated the walls with life-like realism, each scale and feather gleaming with an individual design. All of them pointed to an open terrace adorned with silver linen sheets, fluttering demurely in the nighttime breeze. And outside it, Iris could make out a quaint little garden on the tiled balcony.

As if in a trance, the child-goddess scuffled inside, half expecting to get her feet wet due to title floor being painted like a light blue pond, water lilies springing up from its depths on dark green pads. The wooden columns that supported it had peacocks engraven into, painted as colorfully as her hair. In the room's center a brazier was suck into the floor, for the colder nights that sometimes reach the gods.

Iris was soon turning her colorful head around, until it reached the point where her body was forced to follow. She simply couldn't believe her own eyes. She was a servant...and if this was what a servant's room looked like, what glory did her masters' rooms hold?

A comfortable framed bed was pushed against one of the walls, creamy sheets having been laid across its frame, and to it, a bronze looking glass stood beside a wooded chest, where many of Hera's old shawls and discarded jewels were stored, the treasures spilling over the sides and on to the floor.

The Queen had thought to dispose of them, but after catching a glimpse of the girl's admiring gaze, she figured that they could be put to better use.

Hustling Iris inside, Hera began to help her remove her headdress. The rainbow goddess blushed, and then stammered out, "Oh, you don't have to help me Your Majesty -you should go back to the party-"

"True enough, I am not required," Hera allowed. "But the fact of the matter remains that I _want_ to."

Iris stared at her.

"But…why?" she asked at long last. "I am _nothing."_

Pausing, Hera felt something in her heart twitched at that; though logically the goddess realized that such a statement wasn't so surprising. After all, the girl_ had _all but been property since the war's rather…unfavorable…conclusion for her family.

Crossing the room, Hera set the headdress down atop the chest, and returned to stand before the child-goddess. And the goddess of marriage bent over slightly, her hands on her knees so that she could be at eye level with the child.

"Dear, you are not _nothing,"_ Hera countered carefully, choosing each word with precision to see that they reach the child goddess' center. "You are my Handmaiden, the first servant of my household." Arching an eyebrow, she allowed a hint of sarcasm to creep into her tone. "_That_ is no small matter, child. Especially for one of your status."

Iris winced and looked down at the floor. "Of course Mistress, I didn't mean to imply-"

Hera bit her lip as she realized her mistake. Well, that hadn't gone as she'd planned. Or come out like she had meant.

Taking a breath, Hera tired again. This time in soften tone, one she occasional forgot that she possessed, but certainly did. After all, it was the same tone that had greeted Zeus, when his bird form had appeared soaking wet at her door step. "You also seem like a sweet young girl who the Fates saw fit to shower with misfortune, I only wish to make that fate a more bearable one. I want you to enjoy your life here. Do you understand that? You're not a prisoner or a slave."

* * *

0)o(0

To say now that Iris was greatly confused, and utterly amazed...while, that would have been the understatement of the ages by this point.

This..._this_ was not what she had expected, nor what her mother had _told_ her to expect, on the night Lord Poseidon had first announced to them that he intended to give the younger goddess to Queen Hera as her wedding present. Her poor cloud nymph mother had screamed, and wailed, and begged –_begged_\- on her hands and knees for the sea god to relent, recant, to have _mercy_ on her only remaining daughter. To not send Iris to be an eternal victim of Hera's infamous rages.

In her mind's eye, Iris could see the scene acted out before her once more. Fair haired Electra, who's slivery locks and sky blue eyes betrayed how out of place she was, in being the air nymph queen of an ocean king -had up to that point endured the humiliations that had been placed upon her in utter silence, not given her abuser the satisfaction of seeing her cry or even hearing her speak. The depths of her contempt ever-present in the vastness of that quiet, far deeper than any of the sea god's oceans.

That had made it all the worst for Iris, to hear her break then.

But none of Electra's pleading had made the slightest whit of difference. Gods of Olympus, if anything all the screaming had made Poseidon smugger about it,_ glad_ to finally get a reaction out of the former Queen of the Sea.

So on that last night before Poseidon and she were to depart for Olympus, Electra had spent the entire time clutching her eldest daughter to her breast, whispering frantic advice into Iris' ear:

_Submit to all the Queen says. _

_Talk back to no one._

_Be a pacifist -take no sides ever Iris, not even if the cause seems right._

From the way her mother had spoken, Iris had expected to be in the service, and at the mercy, of a goddess who was more of a harpy than her own sisters: Aello and Okypete…who by that point, had also been taken away. To this day, Iris didn't know where.

But so far, that was not what child goddess had experienced. Queen Hera had been nothing but kind, if a little sharp-tongued, to Iris from very moment the Queen meet her. She hadn't sneered at her, nor did she strike her. She hadn't made any unreasonable demands of her.

And now the Queen of the Olympians was helping her into a sleep tunic.

...wasn't _Iris_ supposed to be the Handmaiden here?

"… Milady," Iris murmured droopy as soon as the article of clothing was on. Rubbing her eyes, the rainbow goddess blindly stumbled three lengthy steps to the bed and collapsed on top of it. It had been a long, _long_ day. The longest day of her Deathless Life. And frankly, Iris harbored the faintest hopes that when she woke up tomorrow, it would prove to be nothing more than a bad dream.

Worming her way under the cloud soft sheets, Iris was distantly aware of the soft hands that pulled the blankets up to her shoulders, tucking them gently around her…like the way her mother used too.

"Good night, Iris," Hera's voice sounded out from far away.

"…G' night Queen Hera," was the girl's murmured reply. "…and thank you."

After that, the goddess child was dead to the world, so she didn't see the slight smile that overcame Hera's face when Iris spoke her name for the first time.

* * *

Reviews make me happy so tell me what you thought and I'll update sooner. Okay, a look at Hera's soft side here.


	3. Homesickness and a New Friend

**Guest: I'm glad you like it**

**Timodeheks: Here is your update!**

**Anastasia the goddess of drama: Yes, Iris is a sweetheart, isn't she?**

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0)o(0

Chapter 3: Homesickness and a New Friend

It was not long before the night of gallivanting and revelry came to passed from the realm of mysterious Nyx, its radiance pouring into the early hours of _Rhododaktylos_ (_rosy-fingered)_ Eos' famously brief and sentimental reign, like an wine-cup overturn by a careless hand. Underneath the dawn goddess' idle touch, the golden wolves of morning was free to ravished the flock of sliver Stars to the point where they were nothing but a splattering of exhausted lights -pathetic shams of their former selves- and doomed them to fade away into obscurity. They were defenseless against their end, for their Shepherdess, their goddess Selene _Pasiphae_ _(All Shinning_), had dutifully reined in their lone protector, her moon.

In the end, the Stars of heaven faded and diminished without a whimper. And not a moment too soon for frankly, the night could endure no more.

The hours of debauchery had taken its toll on the Deathless Ones, who had thrown themselves in various places for the night, some still sprawled on their dining couches, other having sauntered drunkenly to their beds - or as close as they could get to it. So all in all, it was no surprise that not a single deity, Greek or otherwise, was about Zeus' marvelous halls, despite Helios _Hyperiôn_ (_He Who Goes Above) _was nearly midway through the sky. Well, no surprise to anyone save Iris that is.

* * *

0)o(0

The goddess-child stirred slowly, gradually, at first; unwilling to leave what had proven to be the most pleasant night of sleep she'd had in a decade and return to waking reality. Iris had learned over the last few years that reality tended to pale in comparison to the freedoms offered in dreams. But when she tried to snuggle closer to her mother's warmth, and failed to find it, she woke with a terrible start, eyes flying open.

Putting it mildly, she was greatly alarmed to find herself wrapped in foreign sheets. So much so that the child-goddess snapped to attention in the frame bed, her eyes darting franticly as they took in the unfamiliar surroundings. She didn't know where she was.

This wasn't the chamber that she'd shared with her mother, in the palace under the sea -surrounded by the ocean green seawater, and walls that playfully depicted the various antics of sea-life; its tall windows allowing entire schools of brilliantly colored fish to swim into the room, who would then tickle their noses, and happily bidding them well at the start of their day (they were dear, if rather simple creatures).

But this place...this simply wasn't _home. _The mere fact that it wasn't underwater gave _that_ away.

Her ichor pounding in her ears, Iris inhaled a great gasp of air before blowing it out her nose in a tried and tested way calm herself. She knew she had to quiet her mind -panicking wouldn't do her any good here...she needed to _think_.

But where on Gaia's earth _was_ she then? How had she even gotten here? She clearly wasn't in Lord Poseidon's kingdom anymore, that much was obvious. In fact...judging from the sweet songs of mountain birds that chirping outside her window, she would say she was in Lord _Zeus'._

Iris paled, and then swallowed painfully, her hand rising to press against her cheek. That was bad. That was very, _very_ bad.

Flying from the bed with one strong push from her wings, Iris wrestled her way out of the sleep tunic and snatched up the fresh one that sat folded on its foot.

It was a lovely dress spun from wool that was as white as a cloud, and softer than a lamb's fleece, complete with a cerulean geometric design running along its hems and neckline. And Iris immediately noted that unlike the knee-length dresses she was accustom to wearing, this one fell to her _ankles_ -like a woman.

If she had been in a better state of mind, the rainbow goddess would have spent at least an hour admiring it in the mirror. But as it were she barely noticed. She needed to get _home!_

If Lord Poseidon found out that she had somehow left his deep sea realm, his wrath against her and her mother would be…would be…

Suddenly, Iris froze, like a deer becoming aware of a wolf. Suddenly she remembered. All the memories of the previous night came rushing to the forefront of her mind, submerging the present moment like the crashing waves of high tide.

She remembered the party.

Being presented to the Queen.

Hours upon _hours _of just standing beside her new Mistress, and occasionally fetching this or that for Hera, or filling Lord Zeus' wine _kylix_. And she remembered that when she simply could no longer remain on her feet, she had hesitantly asked the Queen for permission to go to bed, without high hopes.

A request that Hera had not only granted, but arranged herself...almost as though the rainbow goddess were her own child...her own daughter. Iris swallowed hard.

_But I'm not, _Iris thought numbly._ I'm not Hera's daughter. My mother is Electra...and I'm probably never ever going to see her again...ever._

Without warning, her mother's broken but still so _tragically_ beautiful face filled the child-goddess's vision. Iris found that she could no longer breath, could no longer think. All she could do was sink to the floor, like a stone in water, becoming painfully and acutely aware that one could be homesick not only for places...but for _people_ as well.

Her sight blurred with tears. She wanted to go _home._

She wanted to wake up in the frame bed that she had shared with her sister Arke, before Lord Zeus had torn her twin's lovely iridescent wings from her shoulder blades, before condemning her to Tartarus. She wanted to run races with Arke in their garden, running on the rainbow road that followed Iris faithfully whenever she called.

She wanted to see her father sitting proudly on his thronos, with a kind look in his eyes for his children and his wife, not broken and crawling away in defect, as he had when Poseidon's forces came (from the moment it was clear he would be beaten, Thaumas had surrendered without a so much as a fight, his daughter recalled with lingering bitterness).

Above all else, she wanted her _mother_. She wanted to run to her and bury herself in Electra's arms. She wanted to hear her laugh and see her smile, the way she use to before her husband had left her to become a concubine, and their daughters to questionable mercy of the new gods.

She wanted to go home. She wanted her family back. _But my family doesn't existed anymore...so neither does home._

And with that thought, the first tears began to fall, staining the titles beneath her fingers a melancholy violet-blue.

* * *

0)o(0

...After sometime had passed, and Iris had finally cried all her tears, the child-goddess determinedly wiped her face dry with the backs of her hands, while taking more deep breaths of the chilled air to settle herself. From experience Iris knew this work just as good as wine or nectar, if not better, in her opinion.

After all, air _sharpen_ one's wits rather than blunted them, which was as much of an advantage as a hoplite having a sharpen spear to take with him onto the battle field, rather than a dulled one. Iris had long been aware that it was always advantageous to have a level head while in the service of harden drunkards. One_ learned_ secrets that way, instead of reveling them, and from the Power gain by such knowledge a clever character could tactfully arranged for its appliance to her own ends...not that Iris had any secrets to call her own at this point. She hadn't anything to call her own. Not anymore.

She closed her eyes and imagined the ocean, with all it beautiful blue-green brilliance, it's waves laced with the golden languid haze of the Eos' gleaming mists. She envision herself as a white stone on the beach, her edges having long been smoothed away, until she was too little for the ocean to bother with anymore. The daughter of Thaumas drained her mind of all color, and all emotion; pouring it into that small white stone, before burying it in the gray sand.

When her mind felt balanced Iris rose to her feet, her wings fluttering a bit before settling down against her shoulders. Drawning her features together, she then drew the battle lines, and undertook the all to familiar campaign to tame her hair, running the bronze comb threw the golden snarls with a feverous passion - almost as though she believed the simple action could untangled her life as well, and make things like they were before the war.

Grabbing a strip of linen cloth that hung on the bronze mirror, her quick and clever fingers carefully began weaving the dark gold locks into a braided _chignon, _just her mother had taught her. So when she was done, the color streaks looped around in a knot at the back of her head in series of coils. Now, normally maidens were not supposed to have their hair up until they were married...but in truth, Iris no longer felt like a child.

_Besides the more grown-up I looked, the better off I'll be, _she reasoned to herself. The decision further helped to settle Iris' nerves, and it gave her a sense of security.

Now looking grown-up and presentable, the rainbow goddess forced herself to slide a pair of green-dyed sandals on her protesting feet, diligently ignoring the fact that she'd always despised shoes, on principle (they had always made Iris feel more restrained than she already was -an impressive feat, in and of itself when you thought about it.) She gritted her teeth as the fan-like straps passed through her first and second toes, and rubbed against them like gadflies as the intertwined system finished it torment above her ankles. When that pleasant deed was done Iris stood, and gave a wishful glare at the chest full of jewelry.

Much as she wanted to riffle through its contents and find something to complete her outfit, the child-goddess didn't dare, fearing her Mistress's displeasure. Begrudgingly, she settled for placing the pearled diadem that Poseidon had given her back on her brow.

The rainbow goddess bite her tongue to hold back her frustration, inwardly reminding herself that this had also been her mother's favorite diadem, given to her when Electra had been a young girl -a gift of love from her future husband. It would have been eventually been Iris' anyways, by her right as eldest daughter.

Without any further reason to hesitate, Iris left her room. With the utmost caution she make her way down the silent hallways of the palace, lightly hopping over the passed out forms of drunken gods here and there.

Iris didn't envy the headaches they were bound to have when they woke up.

Occasionally, she would come across a god and goddess who were semi-clothed, and laying in compromising positions.

Here her face would turn bright red, and she would quickly move on. _Argh._ These_ sandals_...who exactly was the deity that thought torturing one's feet was a brilliant idea?

As she went on, Iris couldn't help but be awed by the sheer splendored of the Olympian Palace. Everything here was made of the finest masonry, limestone and marble, and crafted to a perfection that surpassed anywhere else she'd ever seen. Poseidon's palace under the sea simply couldn't compare. It couldn't.

It made her feel _minuscule. _A very tiny piece, in a very big world.

_What role could a forgotten goddess play in it? _She thought absently to herself as she walked along, her footsteps resounding in the silent halls.

Thankfully, not everything was so imposing. Iris quite liked the few courtyard gardens that she came across. They were more elegant than majestic, and she could easily imagine herself spending time there, throwing buckets after buckets of paint against the boringly blank walls and creating wonderful things to her heart desire.

The sun on her face, soft green grass under her ideally bare toes...Iris could almost feel her oxen-haired paintbrush in her hand.

She quickly shook her head._ Now's not the time to daydream, Iris, _she scolded herself.

Picking up her pace, Iris began to walk faster, suddenly worried that she could be slacking off the first day on the job. What if Hera was up...up and _angry_ that Iris wasn't there to prepare her for the day? Last night she had been kind, that was true... but what if that was because the Queen was reserving her judgment, until she had seen her in action?

Or in this case _inaction. _The ichor froze on her veins at the thought. _Oh gods_.

Panicked now, Iris broke into a run. She sprinted faster than a deer would while being pursued by hunters (she was sure to have blisters).

And still that wasn't fast enough. Unfurling her wings, the muscles underneath the golden feathers groaned in protest at being put to such immediate use, after so long a time being dormant.

And it still wasn't fast enough. Which meant there was only one thing left to do.

_Rainbow help me!_ she called out desperately in her mind, reaching out with her soul. For a moment, nothing happen.

But then the unmistakable smell of rain and light and _joy_ came to her nose.

For the first time in a good long while, Iris felt a beaming smile spread across her youthful face, as her worries suddenly blew away like shadows under the morning sun, while her cheeks showed off dimples that had scarcely been present the last few years. Not since the war had she dare to call for her birthright, fearing the wrath that the action could bring down on her.

Squealing with the delight of a child being reunited with a long lost toy, the rainbow goddess watched as a stream of flexible multicolored light came shooting in through the opening in one of the courtyards straight down to her side, called into existence solely by her will-power.

Without any hesitation Iris slipped onto her pathway, and felt her heart warmed as her Rainbow glowed even brighter as her feet made contact with it -the _only_ pair of feet the iridescent colors would respond to.

Truly this was one of her father's greatest inventions. Not only would it enhance her speed, but it would take her wherever she needed to go, even if she didn't know the way.

"Rainbow, find Queen Hera," Iris commanded, and at once her rainbow shot out before like an arrow, twisting itself around the corner and up a flight of stairs.

And Iris faithfully followed.

And as she ran, the child-goddess whooped again with relish at the sheer joy of being free to_ run, run, run_. Now she could not help but dream, and Iris pictured herself soaring high in the clouds with no one to stop her; the wind whipping in her face, the sunlight on her skin, the streaks in her hair glowing, becoming a second faded arch...

In her mind, she was flying over the world, so all people could be inspired by the brilliance of her colors. That was her dream, her dearest ambition.

That was what Iris desired...more than anything in the world.

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Trusting her rainbow not to lead her into danger, Iris closed her eyes to better enjoy the moment. It turned out to be a foolish move.

_"Oh my gods!"_ came some startled goddess's cry.

Eyes flying open, Iris let out a stunned gasp of her own and tripped over her own feet, tumbling off her rainbow and crashing in a heap onto the floor. _Ouch._

Groaning, Iris sat up, and watch with a downtrodden expression as her iridescence road fade away into nothingness, without so much as a farewell. Just as her pervious life had.

But she wasn't allowed to be miserable for long. A pair of slender hands, as warm and welcoming as the heat of a hearth fire, were immediately under Iris' arms, helping her up to her feet.

"Oh goodness, are you alright child?" a soft voice fretted as a hand reached down, and dusted off Iris' legs. Blinking Iris turned her head to glimpse her helper, and found herself starting at a goddess quite unlike any other the Handmaiden had seen before.

While this goddess was very undoubtedly beautiful, with her unbound auburn curls and soft oval face...she was actually very modest about it, in a way _Theas_ normally weren't. On her person, she wore a very simple peplos that tied at her waist with a brown griddle, its sleeves traveling down to her elbows. The fringe of her caplet was the only decorative thing about the garment, and instead of jewels and diadems her head was covered solely by her long brown shawl, like a fellow servant maid. If it wasn't for the Power that radiated from her like an inferno, and a gold bangle that dangled around her right wrist, the rainbow goddess might've though that she was looking at another minor deity, not so unlike herself.

But the power of an Olympian did in fact reside in her, in a way the modest clothing simply could not hide.

"Yes, I think I'm fine Milady," Iris said respectfully, in reply to the goddess' question. While she couldn't immediately place this _Thea_' identity, she knew better than to offend even the more mild-tempered of the new order. _Beware the wrath of the patience man_, as the saying went.

"Thank you for helping me up," she added, inclining her head deference as she did.

The goddess smiled wryly, and waved aside Iris' formalities with a slim -yet calloused- hand. "Well, I should think helping you up would be the least I could do for startling you. That was some entry you made, child. Now, why don't you come with me, and I'll get you something to eat."

_What?_ Iris was beginning to harbor serious doubts that it was_ she_ who was the servant here. How many servants got waited upon by their masters?

Firmly she shook her head. "I thank you Milady but I really cannot," Iris said, pointedly ignoring her stomach's noise of protest. "The Queen is waiting for me, so I must go to her and-"

But what she planned to say next was quickly cut off.

"The Queen?" the older goddess exclaimed in surprised. "_Hera?_ Child, my sister isn't even risen yet. Last nights...actives have worn her out complete. It will be a good solid hour before she needs you dear."

Oh...it seemed that Iris had been worried over nothing.

"Oh," she spoke out loud, her face flushing. Embarrassed, she began to tug at some loose strands of her hair.

The goddess smiled knowingly as she reach out oncemore, and gently wrapped her arm around the younger female.

"Now, I'm sure I heard your stomach growl a minute ago," the woman teased knowingly. "So let's see if we can do something about that, shall we?"

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Before she knew it, Iris found that she was back in the wallless _Thronos_ Chamber, squatting beside the great hearth fire with the Lady Hestia _Presveira_ _(The Oldest)_. She had come into unfortunate possession of this title, due to having been the first of the new gods devoured by Cronus, though she was the last to be yielded up from his stomach by the cunning of Lord Zeus. All of the world knew her to be the gentlest and kindest of the new gods...but Iris hadn't expected _this._

"How do you prefer your eggs child?" Hestia was asking her, cheerfully smiling as she finished up prepared them a fine meal of barley cake, eggs, and figs. "Sun side up?"

"Yes please," Iris heard herself replied, in a awed voice that almost sounded like it didn't belong to her; the child watched, mesmerized, as the goddess -who could have been on her gilded dinning couch, being served a feast on golden plates with a snap of her fingers and show of Power, set about the task herself, as if she_ was_ in fact a mere severing woman.

"I see the way you look at me child," Hestia told her drily, peering at Iris rather cheekily from the edge of her shawl, eyes glinting with warm humor. The _Thea'_s tone was carrying more than a small douse of amusement, like a woman returning home from the market with a skip in her step and a basket on her head, its contents filled with exciting new foods and spices for her family. "And I can tell what you're thinking. The answers to your thoughts would be this: just because I'm a goddess, doesn't mean I cannot enjoy the simple things."

Here Lady Hestia seemed too paused a moment, her fast moving hands slowing as a thought crossed her face, showing itself in the lines of her forehead. "As a matter of fact...I think I actually_ prefer_ them."

The hearth goddess sighed, and those crackling amber eyes seemed to dim themselves, like a fire going out. The fingers of her right hand slowly moved over to her opposite wrist, lightly tracing the engraving on that one golden bangle. Lit up so that it glowed in the refection of the flames that may have birth it, Iris could see that the goddess's name -Ἑστία- had been carved into it with loving skill. A gift perhaps?

"If my siblings did not need me for their precious Pantheon," she muttered out loud to herself, her tone becoming wishfully as the fire leapt to vibrate life within its brazier, to match her mood of thoughtful longing. "I would _gladly_ refused my throne to sit eternity by the Hearth..." Hestia dropped her head then, and fell silent then, and Iris hardly dared to breathe, for fear that the sound would disturbed her.

Mercifully, the Hearth goddess soon returned to herself. "But enough of that now," she said with an air of dismissal. "-here is your breakfast."

With that she handed one of the two eggs -now on a slice of bread- to Iris, and she took it gladly.

"Thank you Lady," she murmured before biting into it. Her eyes drifted shut in rapture, as her tongue tasted the first solid food she had encountered in the last couple of days, as feeding her hadn't been very high on Poseidon's priorities' list during their journey to Olympus. Actually, it hadn't been one of his priorities at all.

Hestia nodded approvingly, and turned her head to look at the rainbow goddess more fully. "You have good manners, young Iris," she noted, before her gaze darken. "That's a blessing, because not every deity here will be pleasant to you...your well-being may depend on you keeping your temper."

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**Reviews make me happy so tell me what you thought and I'll update sooner.**

**Well what did you think, did I get Hestia right? this is before Dionysus, so she still has a throne. She'll be something like an aunt to Iris. Speaking of Iris, how do you like her personality so far? and her homesickness?**


	4. First Day as a Handmaiden

**Guest: Oh i'm so glad you like the mother-daughter bond!**

**Little Monster: I hope it is worth the wait!**

**Death to Ana: I hope you continue to like Iris's personality**

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Chapter 4: First Day as a Handmaiden

Iris stared at the hearth goddess with her mouth open, suddenly fiercely alert. Her eyes widened to unnatural lengths, open and searching like a sparrow pursued by a cat. "What do you-"

Before she could finished that sentence a gust of cool air sweep over them, and a wind nymph suddenly blew into the pillared hall, ironically out of breath. Like all nymphs she was slender and lithesome, with dainty little ankles that somehow managed to seem even smaller, with her sandals laces entwined around her calves.

"Is...that child...Iris?" the wispy girl gasped as she hastily straightened out her flimsy clothing, and attempted to smoothed the white strands of her hair into a semblance of order; diligently tucking them beneath the head-scarf wrapped around her tresses. "The...Queen..._hu-ff_...wishes for her Handmaiden...t-to help her prepare for the day."

Iris swallowed hard at that, and her stomach seemed to sink all the way to Tartarus in that moment. Meanwhile, Lady Hestia merely gave a weary sounding sigh. Leaning over across the space that separated them, the older goddess gave the younger one's hand an encouragingly pat. "You best be going young one," she told the rainbow goddess regretfully. "It will be better if you do...my sister is an absolute_ horror_ when her will is not followed."

When she saw how the little girl paled at that, Lady Hestia realized that this hadn't been the wisest thing to say, and was quick to add this next part. "Oh you mustn't be afraid child!" she exclaimed, raising one hand up to shoulder height with her fingers spread apart, as if to dispersed her previous words into the air nymph's wind. But it was just a little to late by that point.

_Oh, I'm not afraid,_ Iris thought in skillful self-mockery, while her legs trembled beneath her hands and her nails moved to clenched her knees. _Petrified is the better word._

Without realizing it Iris had began to ardently chew on her lower lip, her nerves coming to their mountain-height. If Queen Hera wasn't happy with her, if Iris fouled this up, then what on Gaia's earth would _Leukolenos_ do with her - what would then_ become_ of her? And of her mother - and her remaining sisters? Poseidon surely wouldn't take her back if the Queen of Heaven dismissed his gift.

She wouldn't only be homeless. She'd be_ rootless_; a forgotten goddess condemned to fade from the minds of the gods - without ever having being known to those of Men. Fade as surely as a star in the dawn-time sky, eclipsed by all the brighter lights that surrounded it. And any knowledge or memory of her family would fade with her into obscurity.

The thought was unbearable.

"-it's obvious that Hera has a soft spot for you already," the hearth goddess continued on in her speech, mercifully unaware of the girl's increasingly morbid thoughts. Adjusting her shawl with one hand, Lady Hestia reached into the flames with the other and raked her fingers among the coals, casing a horde of sparks to leapt to life. "Just follow her instructions and all will be well."

Iris blinked, taken aback by such..._simple_ advice. It couldn't be that simple, could it? But the rainbow goddess then thought it over...and soon nodded at that, feeling a measure of reassurance at the logos of that statement. Follow instructions...follow instructions...she could do that. She'd been doing that all her life after all - from the time she could comprehend the word. And...her mistress _did_ seem to like her already. So Iris would do whatever was necessary to retain and expand that favor. She would make the fate _Moirai _had given her a pleasant one, and earn a place for herself amongst honored eternity. So she squared her shoulders and nodded determinedly.

"Alright," she said as she started to rise. "I'll be-"

"Wait a moment child," Lady Hestia said abruptly, looking as though she had just remembered something. Rising to her own feet, the hearth goddess gave Iris a stern once over, arms cross, before she clucked her tongue in a utter disapproval.

"No...this simply will not do," She said with soft determination. "This will not do at all." In a lightening fast motion Hestia snapped her fingers -causing a golden flash to erupt between her digits. And for a moment nothing happened...or at least nothing _seemed_ to happen. Iris and the wind nymph -an Aurae they were called- discreetly tried to catch each others' eye, conveying their shared confusion. Or at least they did until the other servant girl gasped again, eyes wide and mouth agape, forming a perfect_ O_.

Iris started. "What -"

But in the next moment the child-goddess had her answer; waves of honey gold hair suddenly fell over her cheeks and cascaded down her back, covering her as effectively as any veil. No longer was it bounded up in a _chignon_ like an adult woman's. Fumbling, Iris push the curtain back just in time to witness her dress shrinking up her legs to exposed her knees, transforming it from a woman's dress into youthful shortness.

Iris flushed a radiance crimson as her earth brown girdle -tied beneath non-existence breasts- fell downwards to tighten around her waist, before the extra strands loosely crossed her shoulders in a_ X_ styled fashion.

Too stunned to be upset, the rainbow goddess merely looked at the older deity for some sort of explanation. Lady Hestia's expression was consequently patience, but strictly unremorseful.

"...Don't rush to display yourself as a full-fledge goddess Iris," she told the handmaiden softly, her amber eyes churning like the coals in her fire pit, as she pulled her _himation_ half-way over her mouth. "Your youth is you greatest ally at the moment. Be like the honey bee - do you work quickly and take refuge under the flower petals if thunder storms come your way."

Lady Hestia's eyes flashed, silently urging Iris to comprehend the concealed meaning behind her words, and her hand tightened around the edge of her shawl. "Do you understand?"

Iris nodded slowly, gradually, even as her mind was whirling with the information. "...Yes," she said at last. "Yes I think I do."

Straightening up, she gave the hearth goddess a proper bow of genuine respect. "Thank you Lady Hestia - for breakfast that this."

The gentle-hearted Olympian smiled - the rainbow goddess could tell that she did, even with her mouth hidden from view. "It was a pleasure, and I hope we can do it again sometime."

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"_There_ you are!" was the first thing Queen Hera exclaimed when Iris entered the Royal Bedchamber, with no small amount of mindful caution. It was a circular room, and one that was as wall-less as that which housed the _Thronoi_ \- built so King Zeus could easily accused to both his powers and his realm. The celling of delicately carved citrus wood was instead separated from the floor in the same manner lusty Uranus-sky was withheld from the alluring charms of Gaia-earth, by no less than twelve columns engraved with scenes of exotic wild life, painted in exquisite shades of emerald, crimson, and..._gold_.

Genuine liquid gold. And silver too.

Stepping forward to gain a closer look, Iris saw to her utter wonderment that the emerald and crimson in the columns were in fact _emerald and rubies_; each precious stone and metal having been reduced to paint by magical means, and transformed back into it's harden substance upon drying.

They proudly sat above the jeweled mosaic that dominated the floor, portraying Zeus' golden eagle lovely enthroned with Hera's emerald and lavender peacock, with the room's unusually large brazier serving double duty as a symbolical "nest".

The queen of the gods herself was reclining directly on top of this image in a wicker _klismos _chair before her large bed of carved ebony - the curved, tapered legs sweeping forward and rearward like the rising mountain slope, offering stability while the rear legs sweep continuously upward, supporting the wide backrest that curved like a palm branch.

In her fingers, Queen Hera cradled a delicate bronze looking-glass. In it's red-gold surface she pensively studied her refection, her fingertips trailing careful patterns over her face, the bridge of her nose, and hills of her cheekbones. Her eyes were unreadable as she slowly turned her head slowly from side to side. Meanwhile a small army of mountain nymphs and air nymphs floated about her in attendance.

_It certainly looks more like an army barrack that a Queen's chamber, that's for sure,_ Iris thought, gobsmaked by all the activated. _With everyone running around like this._

Clothed in a slim night tunic woven from starlight with her hair a tumble of chestnut, Hera looked like the radiant -if somewhat frazzled- newlywed she was.

"Well come here," the Queen said impatiently, flicking a graceful wrist to beckon Iris forward when the girl didn't move. Snapping back to herself, the child-goddess murmured an quick apologize, and bopped over like a bird after a noblewoman's breadcrumbs.

When Iris was at her side, Hera wasted no time in getting down to business.

"Do you know how to do hair?" she asked without pause. She didn't even look at her.

Iris immediately gave a confirming nod, her head bobbing up and down earnestly. "Yes, Your Majesty," she replied at once. "And I'm very skilled at it too."

From somewhere behind her, the rainbow goddess thought that she heard one of the nymphs scoff mockingly under her breath. But perhaps that was just her imagining things. Iris did that sometimes, when her fears or delights got the better of her. Though even if she _was_ imagining it, that didn't change the fact that all of them were watching her out of the corners of their eyes -waiting to see if this little handmaiden (a mere child in their eyes) who somehow managed to gain for herself a position of honor they'd all vied for, would sink...or fly. _No pressure Iris. _

"Good," Hera said crisply, acknowledging her word with a brisk nod. "Try and copy the style on this parchment here."

The Queen then processed to thrust said parchment under Iris's nose. Blinking she took it, examining the picture depicted.

It was a fairly simple style - much to the rainbow goddess' disappointment, as she always loved a challenged - calling for Hera's tresses to be pulled back in another version of the classic _chignon_ style: this one consisting of a low hanging knot, held in it's place with a golden headband know as an_ estefanias_, which would hold the style in place, while two long curls were left dangling in front of the Queen's ears, down on her shoulders.

Iris could have done it in her sleep. But if that was what her Mistress asked for, that is what she would receive.

As she set to work, the child-goddess did her best to ignore the slight stinging she felt inside her, at Hera's rather dismissive response to her presence. After last night, she had thought that...well Iris had thought that the Queen would be happier to see her.

Scowling, the rainbow-goddess shook her head to clear it of such foolishness. _Stop it Iris, _she scolded herself. _Hera may have been kind to you last night but that doesn't change the fact that she is still the Queen and you are the Handmaiden...she is not going to coddle you._

But as she began to run a comb through the Queen's gleaming curls, Hera surprised her. "How are you today Iris? Did you sleep well?" the marriage goddess asked in genuine interest.

Startled, Iris jumped a bit and took a moment to answer. "Yes, very well. Like a baby my Queen."

Hera nodded, looking pleased. "Good, I thought you would...and I see that you found the dress I had laid out for you -though it's a bit shorter than I remember. Do you like it?"

Her eyes lighting up a bit, Iris nodded eagerly now.

"Oh yes, yes I _love_ it," she exclaimed, composure forgotten and eyes shining. Due to the fact she was so focus on her Mistress's hair, the rainbow goddess missed the amused smile that briefly flickered across Hera's face, before vanishing like pebble dropped into a stream, leaving behind no ripples.

"The texture, the fabric, the simplicity of the design... its _wonderful_ to wear," Iris continued on happily as she gathered up the hair, and began to plait it tightly.

"I'm glad for it," Hera said briskly, sitting up straighter. "After all, I had it made just for you."

Iris stopped working at that briefly, stunned into stillness. "'Made for me?'" she repeated dumbly. "You had it _made _for me? In the course of one night?"

Hera laughed outright then, loud and deep, and out of the corner of her eye Iris saw the other maids in the room exchange dumfounded looks with one another. It was as though they had never heard the Queen laugh before, and didn't recognized the sound.

"Of course dear," Hera said -causing her ladies to looked fit to faint. "As my Handmaiden, it wouldn't do for you to look anything less than your best now would it?"

"I-I supposed not," Iris stammered, overwhelmed at the thought of such a thoughtful gift. Then snapping back to herself, she began to twist the braid into a knot, before enwrapping it in the first of the _estefanias._ "...Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Your very welcome."

Eyeing the progress the child-goddess was making with her hair, a self-please smile so blossomed across her face. "Your doing a marvelous job," she praised. "-and I see that you have added your own touches to it."

To emphasize, Hera lightly ran her pretty fingers over a few becoming braids that Iris had interwoven into the bun, along with a few extra curls that had been left loose: none of which were apart of the originally design. Iris blushed, her olive cheeks turning as red as a ceramic pot.

"Yes my Queen, I added some...I just couldn't help myself. I'm sorry-"

"Oh don't be," Hera exclaimed, turning slightly in her seat. "I only gave you a simple hairstyle to do because I didn't want to overwhelm you, if you didn't know what you were doing. But since clearly you do, add what you wish...so long as you don't make me look hideous."

This was said with a raise eyebrow, the tone spoken half in jest, and half serious. Iris smile charmingly.

"Queen Hera, " she announced grandly with a broad smile. "I assure you, that would be impossible."

The bride of Zeus felt her lips twitch.

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But before Hera could response to the flattering yet sincere comment; one of the mountain nymphs -an Oread- suddenly and boldly stepped forward, clearing her throat noisily.

She was a tall and radiated female, with dark mahogany curls that were half-way truss up into a similar style to Hera's, thought the rest of it was left down to frame a porcelain doll-like face, and a rosy mouth that Iris instantly assumed was prone to pouting - it stood out like a bloodstain against her white chiton.

"My Queen, I just _hate_ to interrupted," the Oread said in an overly earnest tone, while falling into an exaggerated curtsey to appeal to the Queen's vanity. But what gave Iris a jolt was that it was the same voice that had laughed at her -so she hadn't imagined it. "But I feel obliged to remind you that Lord Zeus is expecting you in little less than half-an-hour to share the morning feast."

Hera's eyes immediately widen, and the Oread looked very satisfied.

"Yes, yes, your right Chere," the marriage goddess muttered as her hands began to fiddled with the clasps on her robe. Looking up sharply, and causing Iris to bob with her motion as to not upset her work, Hera began to barked out orders with absolute authority.

"Bring forth my gowns and jewels! At once!"

At once the maids were fluttering about the room, nearly stumbling over themselves and each other as they snatched the garments from the various pieces of furniture they were draped over. Iris remained where she was, as she was finishing up the last bits of the Queen's hair; carefully tucking in hairclips of the finest ivory into the mass, but such a way that the carved blossoms were still visibly with their golden tips.

"Oh Fates, which one should I chose?" Hera murmured, be-ringed fingers pressed against her lips as she fretted.

Your Majesty needs no help in deciding with your impeccable taste," Chere flattered pointlessly, considering that she wasn't doing a single helpful thing. "Your most glamorous self shall please our King-"

But now Chere had over-stepped her bounds, and Hera suddenly stood with such eruptive force that that it knocked the _klismos_ chair backwards to the floor. Whirling around to face the maidservant, Hera's eyes were hard and colder than the mountain winds...with contrasted drastically with the pure and unadulterated _fire _that sprang forth as she spoke.

"My most glamorous self," Hera spat out venomously. "Shall please _my_ King you cheep-little-_nothing._ Zeus is _my_ King and you will do well to remember it."

By this point most of the other nymphs about the room were cowering against the walls, and even Iris was frozen in shock at this show of temper. Grimly, she realized that her mother's concerns for her now made a lot more sense now. Hera clearly did not have a good hold over her temper.

But to her credit, Chere didn't flinch - much that is. But that was still impressive.

Instead of falling into a panic, she merely drooped into a lower bow than before. "Of course O Glorious One," she demurred. "Pardon my slip of tongue."

Hera looked at the Oread long and hard for a solid minute before she slowly releasing the breath she was holding. "I'm glad we understand one another then."

Chere drooped into yet another curtsey, a sweet passive smile paint on that rosy mouth. "As am I."

Hera sighed now, and rubbed her eyes, suddenly looking tired. "Well now that's that settle...Iris come here."

The smile vanished from Chere's face at those words, withering like a flower underneath a frost.

_Wonderful, I haven't been here a day and already someone dislikes me, _Iris though dispassionately, even as she returned to the Queen's side, with a great deal more caution.

"Yes my lady?" she replied dutifully, and although she tried, her child's voice couldn't hid the notable timidity in held this time. Hurt briefly flickered within the Queen's eyes - along with a mild _disappointment._ But it was gone so fast, Iris wasn't sure if it had even been there at all. Maybe she had just imagined it.

Nevertheless Hera began speaking again, in a quick and effective manner.

"You seem to have fashionable taste...what do you think I should wear to the morning feast?" Hera asked in a well-measure voice, her chin held high.

Iris swallowed hard before answering.

"Weeell..." she said slowly, dawning out the words to buy herself time as her mind raced. Growing desperate she looked around the room for salvation, her mouth babbling out the first ideas that formed in her head. "Considering that it's only the morning feast, I wouldn't over do it. Ahhh-a _simple_ but elegant look will work, under the principle that less is more."

As she spoke, Iris hurriedly bopped over to the far wall, and carefully removed a white gown from the trembling hand of the maid who held it. The poor thing looked like a fevered cat cornered by a packed of wild dogs.

Lightly using her wings to lift into the air so that the dress could be at it's full length, Iris examined the peplos sternly before nodded in satisfaction.

Like all Grecian clothes, the garment was a singular piece of rectangular cloth - woven into a cylinder shape before folding along the topline into a deep cuff; creating an caplet overfold which would properly cover Hera's front, while leaving a good potion of her back exposed. Loose around the waist, it would allowed good freedom of the legs so walking wouldn't be a pain. A series of golden brooches running down the arms to pin the sleeves, matching the swirling designs that ran along the skirt. Y_es,_ Iris thought with relived satisfaction..._that_ hold it all together at the shoulders.

Laying the peplos down on the large bed, Iris turned her attention to the jewelry, unaware of the awed looks many of the maidservants were giving her. A feeling of thrill over coming her, Iris continued on passionately as she picked up of a necklace here, an armband there.

"Now as for jewels...again, less is more," she mused out-loud. "I...I would wear this butterfly diadem...the emeralds in the wings will bring out your eyes, and it's thin enough to ware underneath your polos crown. And then the butterfly earrings -I know you like dangly ones- and these are light enough to work well with everything else..."

Pleased with her choices, she brightly held out the jewels to Hera who was looking at her bemusedly, disappointment gone.

"...I do believe I will come to relay much upon you, young Iris, in the future."

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**Reviews make me happy so tell me what you thought and I'll update sooner.**

**So as you can see, I'm making Iris something of an artist, with a eye for beauty...it just makes sense. Also, I have change her looks a bit...the whole rainbow scheme is sort of chiche...so you might want to reread this from the start.**


	5. Sisterhood and a Friend

Horseyfan: Thank you for the wonderful review. I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

Death to Ana:Yes, Hera can be a little Bellatirxy, can't she?

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Chapter 5: Sisterhood and a Friend

Iris proceeded to spent the next ten minutes assisting Hera into her outfit, one article at a time. The articles which she_, __Iris_, had picked out herself. To dress a _Queen_. And on account of this, the child-goddess was powerless to halt the smallest grin of elated triumph from dancing it way across her soft features like a priestess at a festival, an outward manifestation of how a merchant must feel, when he'd made a successful advertisement of his wares to a potential buyer.

Though while this delight was abundant, it was also, admittedly, lessened by the furious glares that Chere continued to throw her way. The Oread's dark orbs were narrowed into little pointed daggers, and Iris had no trouble in believing were just _aching_ to dig a hole in her back.

But what she didn't understand was _why_. What had Iris ever done to _her?_ All she done was help the Queen like she was supposed to! Chere had just babble flattery nonsense until she spoke the wrong word, and caused Hera's little..._eruption._ Which had also spoiled on the mood.

Still...all was not bad, Iris quickly remind herself. It wasn't bad at all, when one considered what her status was, merely a day ago.

Aside from Chere, the rest maidservants now looked at the Handmaiden with considerable respect; though whether that was due to her skills as hairdresser, or the calming effect she seemed to have over their volatile Mistress she didn't know. _Probably no small mixture of both,_ she thought. One particular Oread seem greatly impressed.

She seemed a tad younger than the rest, in that her appearance seemed to be around the mortal age of sixteen, while the rest seemed to be either early or middle of a mortal's second decade.

She was very pretty - very fair- having laid an excellent claim to the triangular, impish face that all nymphs possessed; along with arching eyebrows and dark, bubbly brown eyes. But her crowning glory was her long, marigold hair that appeared to of had Eos' morning sunlight brushed lovingly into each of its tresses. The long curls had been tussled up, reined in like the Earthshaker's horses, and coiled into a small _chignon_ at the back of her head, held in place by a saffron headscarf, with it's ordemental knot resting on her forehead like the modest of diadems.

Envy immediately stirred the rainbow goddess' heart, seeing that the color was far more superior_ and_ exotic than her own dark, _brownish_-gold. What in all of Greece was more becoming, than a girl whose hair was the yellow of a torch's flames? Such hair enhanced beauty beyond that of jewels and kohl, and it was clear to Iris' trained eye that the color was its natural shade - not dyed with vinegar and bleached in the sun; as she'd once tried to do, before her mother had stopped her with strict chiding.

_And with my luck, _she ruefully figured._ The Oread's tresses are probably more manageable to._

...on top of all this, the Oread girl seemed to have a sweet nature. When she caught Iris' eye, she gave child-goddess a blinding smile -which seem to ask one very simple question: _Do you want to be friends?_

_Friends..._

...it had been such a long time, since Iris had someone to call a friend. And according some definitions, maybe she'd never _truly_ had one. Her only companion during childhood had been her younger twin...but they'd been very close, and had done all the things the friends were reputed too. They had giggled together, and played together, and simply enjoyed almost every moment together.

Arke had been her heart. The second arch in her rainbow. And a terrible ache for her wild, rebellious, endlessly brave sister rose up within her.

_But Arke is gone_, Iris reminded herself firmly, even as her throat burned with renewed flames. Lifting her chin, she forced the emotion down into a small chest that the rainbow child kept, in the spot where the heart normally was, making room for it besides Hope. Her sister was gone, and she would not be back. _Ever. _

And, if Iris was being honest with herself -and she always tried to be- the goddess would admit that Arke had already been gone in her sight, long before Lord Zeus had cast her down to the lowest prison on earth. Her sister had been gone the moment she had betrayed their father's strict oath of neutrality, and joined forces with the Titans at the beginning of the war –therefore dragging the House of Thaumas into the conflict, right alongside her, and dooming them _all_ to destitution in the end; on account of her recklessness.

This Iris could not forget, could not pardon, and could not forgive. Even if she still could not help but love. So now the only thing for goddess-child to do was to accept her loss, and _move on_.

So she smile back at the Oread. A smaller, more hesitate smile...but a smile nonetheless...one which answered _yes._

* * *

0)o(0

When Hera was finally ready, she left the chamber with her head held high, and her ladies in tow -having tossed a fine, moon-bright shawl over her bound hair, and around her white neck in a last minute addition. As they made their way through the palace's incense scented halls, the Friendly Oread quicken her pace to fall into step besides Iris.

"Hello," the mountain nymph greeted in a soft, cheery voice.

"Hello," Iris parroted, a tad shy. It had been sometime since she'd last talked to anyone of her standing. At Poseidon's court, the other servants had kept their distance from the rainbow goddess and her mother, fearful of the sea god's wrath if he spotted them interacting with their formal mistresses. The distance had been appreciated at first, due to the bitterness of their humiliation.

But as time wore on, the isolation had very quickly grown lonesome, like a single tree apart from all others in the forest. Her hand moved instinctive, tucking a pink strand of hair behind her ear out of nerves. The Oread smile only grew wider.

"It is very nice to meet you Iris," she beamed." My name is Echo. And I must say, what you did in there was _amazing!"_

Iris frowned as the party swept down the columned hallways. "You really think so?" she asked doubtfully, remembering her desperate improvising. "…I don't feel like I did a lot-"

"Believe me you did," Echo interrupted drily. "I don't know how you did it, but you made her _happy._ _Genuinely_ happy. And the cloths you pick out were utterly _gorgeous_. I guess that's why you were chosen to be the Handmaiden instead of my sister."

"Oh? Who is your sister?" Iris inquired curiously, head cocked to the side as the child-goddess awaited the answer.

For the first time, some of the joy seem to leave the Oread face, in fact she seemed…almost embarrassed. "Chere," she finally muttered under her breath, the words barely getting passed her mouth. Iris's multicolored eyes immediately became as wide as serving platters.

"_Really?_" she gasped, "I would never have guessed...you look nothing alike, and you _definitely_ don't-"

Iris stopped herself, realizing that what she had intended to say wasn't entirely...erm..._tactful_. But Echo proved to be of a lighthearted temperament, and was far from offended.

"Oh it's alright," the mountain nymph giggled, while her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Believe me, I_ know_ we don't act or look alike, and I thank the gods for it."

Here she made a dismissive noise, and shrugged her slender shoulders.

"We have different mothers," she related off-handily, as though that alone explained it, and maybe it did. "And you'll have to pardon Chere's manners...or lack of them as it were. She woke up on the wrong side of the bed the day she was born and never got over it, and has spent every day since letting all know it. I couldn't live that way…a nymph's life is far too short to go around with a stick up your rear."

Iris couldn't help but joined in Echo's laughter at that; it just bubbled up, bursting like air pockets in wet sand, and soon she was holding her hands against her mouth to stifle her mirth.

After a few carefree moments Echo stilled, her gaze turning thoughtful. Then she gave a lengthy sigh.

"But really, Chere wanted to be the Queen's handmaiden," she explained. "Our father had supported the Olympians against the Titans, and I supposed she thought she'd get the position as a reward for his loyalty since…well, since many of our brothers gave their lives for the cause."

Iris immediately sobered at that. "Oh my...I'm sorry..."

But Echo waved her off, a silver-bronze snake bracelet flashing at her as she did so. "It's in the past, Iris. Now listen to _this_ part. Chere came before Hera to apply for the position" the nymph's eyes gleamed. "But Hera turned her down _flat_."

To emphasize her point Echo made a sweeping motion with her hand, sharp and quick, to show her sister's dismissal.

Despite the less-than-warm reception that the older girl had given her, Iris couldn't help but wince in the slightly sympathy, at the scene that played out in her mind, picturing herself in Chere's place.

_"Ouch," _was all she could say. Echo snorted in a most unlady-like fashion.

"Oh yes_ ouch_," the Oread retorted, "I thought Chere was going to _die_ of the humiliation..."

Here Echo glared up suddenly. Quickly whipping her head side to side, those marigold curls flashed in the morning dim like sparks off a fire. When she had reassured herself that none were listening, she bended in closer to the child goddess, eyes widening in eagerness to share her secret.

"And this is the sweet part Iris," she breathed out in a flawless whisper. "According to hearsay, the reason Hera turned Chere down is because the Queen told her she wanted a child-maiden to be her personal servant. Not an adult-one."

Iris very nearly tripped over her own feet at that. She was gobsmaked. "Then," she said as her mind whirled, "...then that would explain why Poseidon brought me here..."

"He probably thought it would be a good way to wiggle into the Queen favor," Echo replied in a factual tone.

Iris nodded absently, her mind still whirling. "But I don't understand..." she replied, speaking slowly as though that would unravel the mystery for her. "Why would she want a child to head her Household? Wouldn't a grown-up lady do a better job?"

Echo could only shrug. "Who knows? But I do know that down on the earthen plane mortal ladies often chose children to be their Handmaidens. I think it's so the child grows up loyal to her service...why don't you ask Hera herself at some point? I'm sure she'd tell you."

* * *

0)o(0

Iris pursed her lips as she considered her friend's rather simple advice. She seemed to be getting a lot of that nowadays. But could she really approached the Queen of Olumpus about it? Wouldn't that be too presumptive, too audacious?

"Do you really think so-"

But the last words of her sentence were drowned at that moment, by a towering wave of roaring laughter. "Well, look at this!" someone exclaimed in booming guffaw so loud, it seemed to bounce of the walls -causing red-fire vases to tremble on their own pedestals. When one besides her came close to falling to the floor, Iris immediately steady it. "How is it that my bountiful bride manages to outshine her very self not one day after our wedding?"

Lord Zeus.

The King of the Gods was headed straight towards them from the opposite side of the hall, grinning broadly. His steps were long and self-assured, benefitting the ruler of the world, and the power of his aura was unmistakable, and the child-goddess sucked in a breath as an electric pulse zipped through the area, making the hair on her arms and the back of her neck stand up.

The taste of melted aluminum was in her mouth, and Iris had to fight not to make a face._ Belch._

Curious, Iris dare to sneak a peek at the Queen's other ladies, wanting to see how they had responded to Lord Zeus' presence...and saw a verity of them.

Some were gawking shamelessly, eye's wide like newborn calves with their limbs hanging uselessly at their sides. They were in absolute awe at being so near to him that conquered the august Titians. In all honesty, Iris didn't blame these ones. King Zeus was indeed an awe worthy figure, and indisputably more striking than Cronus, who'd been a terror without any of the wonder.

At six foot one, Zeus **Brontios**_ (the Thunderer_ ) towered over the women in his royal purple _achiton;_ especially since they'd all fallen to their knees when he entered the hallway- his _himation _draped in comfortable looseness around his form, over his purple iron-pinned tunic, while the bronze goat-skinned Aegis brazenly shone around his shoulders.

But awe was not the only emotion among their group, and what Iris saw next nearly turned her olive skin white with dread.

Others member of their party were staring at Hera's husband with open want. Their eyes had gazed over, and turned hungry as they took in that wild black hair, thick beard, and zany blue gaze. The more naïve members did so openly...but the cunning ones were wise enough to be discreet.

Chere fell into this last category.

Echo saw it too, and released a humiliated moan at this, low enough so none but Iris could hear; and the Handmaiden could only shake her head at the nymphs' utter stupidity. _Does Chere have a _death_ wish? _She wondered. _Do they _all_ have death wishes?!_

Surely they did, for there was no other explanation. Queen Hera would certainly_ murder_ them if she ever saw this. And if this morning was anything to go by it would be slow, and _definitely_ painful.

* * *

0)o(0

Hera felt as if she were floating, as if she were lighter than air, and more translucent and alluring than the shawl fluttering around her pale throat. She was almost giddy with joy as she took in her King's delight with her appearance.

"Is it really such a surprise?" Hera quipped airily, as her husband raised her up from the floor. "That I should always seek to please you?"

Zeus chuckled at the banter. "No I supposed not. I am a fortune man." Twirling Hera around, he lightly ran his fingers over the billowing fabric of her dress. "You're more exquisite than a snowflake in summer."

Hera flushed pleasantly at the compliment, the joy of the moment giving her the confidence to push ahead with a plan she had set for a latter date. "Well I can't take all the credit, my lord."

"No?" Zeus asked, raising a bushy eyebrow.

"No," she confirmed readily, eager to allow a certain other to share in the credit. "Iris, come here," she ordered, summoning the child-goddess with a flick of her wrist. She bite back an un-queenly giggle as the girl's multicolored eyes became round as an owl trying to take the whole world in, before a careful mask of calm fell over her face.

But nevertheless, the Handmaiden's little body was tenser than bow-string when Hera pulled the child before her husband –who was looking distantly amused at this point.

"Most of my outfit today was put together by the artistic sense of Iris_ Thaumantias_ _(Daughter of the Wondrous One),"_ Hera declared fondly, using the poetic epithet that had belonged to her young charge since birth.

Hera was also _restoring_ it, seeing that after Thaumas' defeat at the hands of Poseidon, all of his titles -and those of his family- had been declared null, void, and powerless. Names and Epithets both had magic welded deep within them, hidden spells and charms so potent that when spoken aloud, it summoned power for their owner. This was why only Zeus and she had the authority to grant or repeal them.

So considering these factors, it wasn't a surprise that a collative gasp rose up from her other ladies. Even Zeus was clearly startled, standing up straighter and paying greater attention.

And Iris herself was once again cow-eyed, her jaw slacked and hanging open. She swallowed hard as her hands fluttered upwards to her hair like a pair of timid birds; nervously weaving it into a low hanging gold braid -those streaks of color threading through it like ribbons.

Hera ignored all this, and continued onwards. She was determined for her husband to see the young girl's potential. "She seems to have inherited his flair for creating marvelous things," she finished up.

"...Is that so?" Zeus asked quietly, and for the first time, the lord of the sky fixed a more serious gaze on the child-goddess whom Hera knew he'd given no _serious_ thought too outside her role as a servant, and occasional errand girl between the gods.

But Hera was certain Iris could be more, some deep instinctive part of her declared this to be so. Minor goddess though she was, she could fit into this world, Hera's world, quite nicely.

"Yes," Hera answered firmly, her voice unconsciously taking on a challenging note -one that raised her husband's eyebrows. "I'm sure that the mortals will adore her, and through her_ us_, once she makes her debut."

Silence followed this. Hera disregarded it, and glared up at her lord imploringly. Zeus then spoke, and his tone was well balance. "I see we will have much to discuss at the morning feast...and if we are to make it at all we much hurry. Come."

He held out his arm to his wife, and Hera took it graciously, releasing Iris to return to her spot in party.

* * *

0)o(0

Iris felt a little nauseous as she scuffled along after the royal couple, though whether that came from the energy jolt she had received upon having her epithet returned to her, or the shock of Hera _doing so,_ without even petitioning the King, she didn't rightful know.

But either way if Echo hadn't taken hold of her elbow, the child-goddess was certain that she would have fallen flat on her face. If that happened, she could certainly kiss any possible promotion _good-bye._

_Of course, that would make Chere happy, _Iris thought.

The Oread nymph was all but breathing fire as she strutted down the hallway, storming along ahead of the other ladies, just short of the Queen.

_Why_ did that girl hate her so? Turned down from a job or not, this attitude seemed a little..._extreme. _At least, it did to Iris' way of thinking. Surely there were better ways to spend your time. Better ways to build yourself up.

Echo followed her friend's gaze to her sister, and released a sigh.

"I don't know, Iri," she whispered to her, apparently guessing at what the younger girl was thinking. "Chere is vain and ambitious and she doesn't like to lose. Our father spoils her dreadfully..."

Iris hummed at this little tidbit, filed it away for later uses...and raised an question eyebrow at the pet-name Echo had just bestowed on her. _"Iri?"_ she repeated with widen eyes, swallowing a giggle that threated to escape.

Echo flushed somewhat, but meet her gaze evenly. "What?_ I_ think it's an adorable name. Don't you?"

Iris considered, then shrugged nonchalantly.

"I supposed," she chirped lightly, smoothing back some louse strands of hair that had escaped her braid so that it was cradling her face, and falling over her shoulder rather than her back.

Echo's merry eyes suddenly grew serious. "Of course, I freely admit it not as exquisite as your other title Iris _Thaumantias." _

And just like that, lightening erupted it Iris' veins, overwhelming her senses and making her world spin. It was all she could do continue walking, her grip on Echo's arm tightening like a vine around a tree.

"Iris? _Iris?"_ Echo gasped out to her, stunned by the sudden change in the goddess-girl's strength.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Iris gasped, releasing the Oread. Suddenly she was very grateful that the two of them were bring up the rear. "I'm so sorry Echo!"

"...Zeus' thunderbolt," the older girl muttered after a moment. Ruefully, she rub her arm. "That's some grip you have, Iri."

"Names have _power, _Echo," Iris explained lowly. "You have to be careful. I'm only a minor goddess; so imagine what the Olympians can do...I can't_ believe_ Queen Hera gave mine back to me. She could've given it to _anyone."_

Echo clucked her tongue, and her face grew into a shrewd thoughtful.

"…you shouldn't be surprised Iris," she said softly, calculatingly. "You hear what Hera said as plainly as I did. The Queen expects great things to come from you," here she paused, and raised a single eyebrow in a considering sort of way. "...and personally, I think she right to think so."

* * *

**Okay reviews make me happy so tell me what you thought and I'll update sooner.**

**Okay, so a lot has gone done. Chere is scheming,(Needless to say, Echo's end is going to be her fault) Iris has her epithet back (And she'll have more soon), Hera is happy (it not going to last) and she and Zeus are going to talk about Iris' role in their realm.**

**P.S. : Do you guys like this verison of Iris? I tied to keep her peaceful and somewhat innocent yet savvy**

**Hey...what actors and actresses do you think would do a good job of playing these characters? I'm trying to make a list.**

**MERRY CHRISTMAS!**


	6. The Morning Feast

Vanessa Masters : Yes, Poor Echo.

just a guest : Thank you!

overlordred: lovely thoughts.

effervescentbutterbeer : Oh, yes, there will be cruel and unusual punishment

Anastasia The Goddess of Drama: Nope, poor Echo is doomed.

* * *

0)o(0

Chapter: VI

Iris couldn't think of anything to that. So for the moment, she decided to hold her peace; but since Echo was clearly waiting for a response, the rainbow goddess hummed an untranslatable reply.

Without anything to further delay them, the royal entourage soon arrived back at the entrance Dinning Hall. The great onyx doors had been flung open, and Iris' ears quickly began to tingle with the babbling streams of chatter resonating from the other room - where the guests talked, drank, and generally made themselves merry.

Not that the gods _needed_ an excuse to indulge their senses, but the rub was that at a celebration they could do so with a little more form...or at least that was the idea.

In practice from what Iris had witness over the course of her life, the rainbow goddess had never believed it was all that efficient, in her personal opinion. Grimacing, the child-goddess gave herself a little shake to banish such thoughts. It was a bad idea to dwell on such things here in this place, where some deities were powerful enough to glimpse your mind. Far to dangerous.

As soon as their little group passed over the bronze threshold, the Cyclops that stood guard subtlety announced their presence by banging a flat disk called a _gong_ \- yet another wedding gift from the distant east. Wincing, the rainbow goddess swallowed and shifted uncomfortably as every (or in some cases _multiple)_ pairs of eyes suddenly turned on their retinue...just as they gawked at her the night before, when she was being presented to Queen Hera.

Not failing to notice this, Echo gently nudged her young friend's arm.

"Don't be afraid Iri," the older girl whispered encouragingly. "Their not looking at _you_ this time. Just stand tall and it will be over in a moment."

Iris sucked in a breath, and nodded briefly to show that she understood. And for her shake, she hoped Echo was right. But she didn't have time to think on it, because the Herald at the door began to introduce the heavenly rulers to their audience.

"Honored guests of Olympus," the Cyclops boomed out in a voice like tumbling thunder, his single eye lifted heavenwards, and his fist clasped loyally over his heart. "Their Holy Majesties - All-seeing Zeus**_ Olympios,_** Bearer of the Aegis, Bane of Cronus, Conquer of the Titans, and divine Lord of Greece-"

Here the Cyclops was force to pause, momentarily, due to the howling applause and cheers that had erupted from the crowd. Lord Zeus basked this fanfare almost nonchalant, taking it as his due while his wife glowed with pride besides him.

From the light that gleamed in his keen eyes, Iris could tell that the sky god knew well that he had the crowd's favor, and would have it for some time to come. Cronus and his brethren had been the bane of all the world -and had made up the majority of it's brutes and bullies. When they had ruled Greece, they had done whatever they pleased, with no regarded for any other, or the natural order of the world.

Consequently, there had been few who wept when they were finally humbled.

* * *

0)o(0

Also, Iris had to admit, the fact that Lord Zeus had been an easy protagonist to root for in this story certainly hadn't hurt him, or his call-to-arms. Young (well, by divine standards young), charismatic, and handsome even for a god, Lord Zeus had quickly won both the hearts and allegiance of Greece, back when he made his first strike against the old order. He had been shinning, heroic, and absolutely fearless in his brazen defiance of the Titan Lord, and his all-devouring, infamous appetite.

After all, if one was going to over-throw the world as all knew it, one couldn't put anything less then your entire essence into it.

Iris remember that despite their strict neutrality, even her parents had been bedazzled enough by The Tunderer to consider joining their House and resources to the Olympians' forming side.

Her heart clenched. Oh if only they had...if only they had. Who knew what wondrous glory they could be enjoying, if they had?

Her father could have been reclining upon a couch of honor, dressed in his finest achiton of cerulean, with the a diadem of seaweed and pearls covering his forehead, the ends trailing off to mingle with his white forming hair. Her mother could have been at his side in all her beauty, and it would've been her sliver locks instead of Hera's that were gladly braided by Iris' hands -trussed up into a high _chignon_, and held in placed with the diadem Iris wore now; the envy of all who glimpsed her through her modest-concealing himation.

But instead, her father's pacifist nature had won out over his courage, and as a result of his timidity, he was an coward in exile. And her sweet, ever faithful mother was the war booty of Poseidon Earthshaker, with her hair shorn off like a sheep, in her new slave-girl status.

* * *

0)o(0

Eventually the wildness died down, and it was soon quiet enough for the Cyclops guard to continued with his monologue, as though he had never been interrupted.

"-and his new consort - Hera** _Basileia,_** Lady of Marriage, White of Limb, Bane of the Titans, and divine Lady of Greece," the guard finished strongly, his chest giving off a dramatic flare.

The crowd went wild once more; fists, cups and voices raising to toast the new queen. The adoration had yet to die as the Heavenly Royals made their way to their ornate seats upon the dais.

Iris noted that like the walls of the Reception Courtyard, the platform that held the chairs of office was engraved with visuals of the gods crushing their enemies in the _Titanomakhia_...a casual hint to any visitor that these beings were _not_ to be trifled with.

While Lord Zeus and Lady Hera calmly took their seats upon the _Thronoi,_ Iris, Echo, and the rest of the maidservants stood faithfully besides the dais; their hands folded demurely at their waists. Grinning broadly, Zeus reached out, and grasped his golden _kylix (drinking cup) _from the bowing satyr who offered it. It has a broad, relatively shallow, body raised on a stem from a foot and two horizontal handles disposed symmetrically, with a playfully scene of bulls chasing cows, and stages chases does gilded over it's sides.

He heaved it into the air with an absolute authority; and at once, the hall was silent. Even outside, the birds in the trees had the sense to have shut their becks.

"...My friends," Zeus boomed out, the sound rumbling through the room. And while his tone amiably, there was no mistaking the raw Power that flowed behind it like an unleashed lightning bolt, due to the gracious use of one of his epithets. Indeed, both the King and his wife were now all but glowing with Power, right from their cores.

"For these past years all of us had taken a tremendous gamble," Kronides continued, " We have risked our lives and fortunes to create a place for ourselves in this world...but my friends...the struggle is over. Everything that was the Titans' is now _ours._ And I consider every being -be he god, nymph or spirit who fought at my side to not only be my friends...but equal to my very _kin!"_

_"Hail!_

_"Here, here!"_

Lord Zeus intervened before things could get out of hand once more, raising an indomitable hand.

"As such," The Thunderer continued on, "I assure you that each of you shall have a place in this new world. Fear not. I intent to be a just King, and I will not forget any of you. I will look after those who look after me..."

Then the sky god's impossibly blue eyes gleamed slightly, lightning shooting across them in no accidental show of might.

"...as I will also look after those who _don't." _

Iris gulped at the undertones carried with that statement._ Well there's a happy thought._

* * *

0)o(0

The dark implication of the last statement had barely been absorbed by the crowd before Zeus was merry once more. "But enough of such things!" he declared joviality. "Let us feast!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a parade of servants marched into the hall, bearing platters and baskets bearing Ambrosia,and many other mortal delicates within them. The gods of the world shrieked with delight, and any uneasy feelings were immediately and unabashedly forgotten. That was how it normally was.

Iris and the other servants immediately set themselves to work, understanding that they wouldn't be eating until long after their masters had finished (Iris counted her blessings that she already had some substance in her belly).

Taking up a golden pitcher, the child-goddess filled the jug to it's brim with Nectar. She bit her lip determinedly as she strove not to spill a drop, rising unconsciously to stand on the of tip of her toes as she did so. When in the service of Poseidon, she had performed this due a dozen times, and then a dozen times more, to the point when she like to think that she had achieved a mastered over it.

Iris' father had once confided in his eldest daughter his philosophy that there was art in every aspect of life, if one looked hard enough. She had long chosen to believed that as well.

So it with a flare of cultivated skill, and inherent grace, that the rainbow goddess faithfully filled the cups of her Master and Mistress, before moving on to tend to the rest of the Olympians.

It was more than a little nerve racking, she admitted to herself, considering that the majority of these beings who held up their cups had the power to smite her for existence. Never-mind the thought of serving those bizarre_, _and _barbarous,_ foreign deities -whose least peculiarity was that some had animals for heads.

But Chere was watching her out of the corner of her eye, like a hawk about to snatch up a mouse. That alone made Iris straighten her back and continue determinedly onwards - burning heels and all.

_How brave I am_, the girl thought grandly. Though admittedly, as more and more cups raised -a little help would be welcomed.

No sooner had the though crossed her mind before Echo was there - her long legs quickly bobbing their way over to walk besides her, a platter of fruit cradled in her grasp.

"Alright now Iri," the Oread nymph said cheerfully, her delicate chiton rippling around her as she walked. A full length one, Iris noted with envy - a with a sires of forest arrows having been embroidered on the skirt.

"I _assume_ you have done this before in Lord Poseidon's court," the Oread continue. "But the manners in the court of Zeus are quite different. Your doing quite well, but why don't you follow my lead and do as I do? That way, you can pick up on _our_ ways."

* * *

0)o(0

Hera released a well satisfied breath as she helped herself to her share of the morning meal. In between delicate bits of Ambrosia, the Queen mused on how extraordinary_ right_ things in her world had turned out to be.

Her family was all here, safely around her, delivered from darkness to take their rightful place as rulers in the world (already a certain part of her mine was whirling with possibilities, trying to decide who would go where, and rule over what).

She was the undoubted Queen of the greatest tribe of gods in the history of the universe - with some of their tales having already become legends; ones that would live in the hearts of Men for eons to come. Greece was the single most important civilization of mankind - an inner instinct told her so. Now she and her kin would mark it with their glory...

"Hera," her husband suddenly rumbled besides her, eyes crinkled with amusement. "It seems that your girl is becoming quite popular."

Hera blinked at that, caught of her guard...as she would be many times in the eons to come. "I beg your pardon, my lord?" she inquired of him, her face puzzled.

"Your girl -Thaumas' daughter," Zeus elaborated, gesturing with his bearded chin at the mention girl. Hera followed his gaze, and nearly crowed with delight at the sight before her.

Iris had wisely paired herself up with one of the older maidservants, and was dutifully imitating the Oread's graceful movement and manners as the two of them went about the room, serving the guests. As well as charming the daylights out of them. And how could they not? Who could resist them?

Iris was adorable with her giant eyes, dimpled smile, and rose-colored lips. Her sweetly round face sill had traces of infant fat, which naturally was leading many of the female deities to coo over her.

And intelligent child that she was, the rainbow goddess took full advantage of this instinctive fondness, and won further affection by offering sweetly witty responses to their inquires about her.

On the flip side of the drachma, the Oread girl (Echo, the Queen believed the nymph's name to be) dazzle in a different way. Of marriageable age and exceedingly pretty, the maid's zipping bee-like tongue readily sprinkled a comment here and there, enchanting the guests with her honey words and fantastic short quips. All while allowing her beauty to shine as naturally as the sun.

Zeus stroked his beard pensively.

"They play the game well," he mused out-loud to himself. Adopting a thoughtful expression, the Thunderer said to Hera,"You know wife, I could not understand why you requested a child for a Handmaiden. But I have to admit that so far, she_ is_ doing a remarkable job for one so young...perhaps you are right. Perhaps the girl has the potential to have a larger role in our world than that of a high ranking servant."

Hera could have laughed for glee. "I'm certain she dose, my lord," she proclaimed earnestly. "You see how clever she is, how talented. She picks up skills as if they were merely pebbles on the road. She truly is worthy of her epithet."

Zeus paused at that, the merriment draining out of his face. "Yes...her epithet," Kronides repeated slowly, his eyes locked on her face, watching every twitch of her features. "Hera, just when did you decide to return that to her? To the daughter and sister of traitors? You have only had the child for part of a day."

Taken aback by this questioning, Hera did not reposed as quickly as her husband would have liked, and the king of the gods sighed.

"Beloved, I had planned to give that title to the young daughter of river god Inachus. I promised him it, for he desired it very much, and has severed me valiantly. But now that it's return to its original owner I cannot remove it without causing that girl great harm."

Hera paled at that, the ichor draining from her face. "I...I am sorry husband," she stammered out. "I did not know-

"I know you did not," Zeus interrupted firmly. His eyes were deathly serious, and in the blue, Hera noted with a chill that she could see the starry sky of Coronus, and his sire Uranus. "And it is for that reason that I am only chiding you this time...but in the future do not think to act without my consent."

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Reviews make me happy, So tell me what you think, and I'll update sooner.

As the gods, I picture:

Celine Bunkens as Iris

Connie Nielsen at the age when she was in Gladiator as Hera

Henry Cavil as Zeus

Diane Lane as Hestia

Sean Bean as Poseidon


	7. Mothers and Madness

**Delcesa Newby: Thank you I have been making corrections**

**Vanessa Master: Thank you very much!**

**Katmar 1994: Wait no more!**

**Overloaded: Good to hear your so crazy about my story, Thank you**

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chapter 7:Mothers and Madness

"...yes my lord," Hera replied at last, after a few moments of humiliating silence. Now, logically speaking, she _knew, knew, knew_ in her head that there was no other answer she could have possible given her husband. But that it didn't stop the words from tasting bitter as they passed her lips. Resentment quickly began to pool in the pit of her stomach, made worse when the Thunderer -looking _oh-so-satisfied_\- nodded once, briskly, and turned away from her as though that were all that was to be said of the matter.

But that was most_ certainly_ not all. Not in this millennia.

Breathing hard, Hera's long swan throat began flex beneath the ropes of gold and amber that Iris had draped around it. Meanwhile, her nails clenched the sides of her _thronos_.

Who did Zeus think she was - to dare to talk to her like this?! She was no brainless, broad-legged Nymph! No simple minded trollope was she - who uses and thoughts were only fit for bed-sport! Act-without-his-consent _indeed!_ She was his _Queen -_ by the right of fate she was Hera_ Basileia! _And in her own right, she was Hera_ Teleia_ _(Marriage),_ and Hera _Akráia _(_She of Glorious Highs_). Some part of ruling this Kingdom belonged to _her! _She was one of the Three Olympian Sisters, a Bane of the Titans, and a proud daughter of Rhea. She had been born to be a Queen. _Breed_ to be a Queen.

During the war she had learned this realm like the lines on her hand, from every hill and river; and through promising and arranging marriages, she had made alliances with every powerful clan, and so had help Zeus tear down the old order stone by_ stone, _before building it up again. And this little _miscalculation_ would not hinder Hera from her blood-right! It would not, it would _not! _Not when she had given _everything-_

Growing alarmed at the fury stirring in her golden veins, Hera inhaled a sharp breath, and spread her long fingers on the armrests of her chair to the point where the ichor left her palms; bleaching them as white as her renowned arms.

_Calm, little Pais, _her mother's soft voice echoed within her head, speaking the wisdom the Titan goddess had bestowed upon her daughter, after learned that Hera would be Queen of Greece's gods - just as she once was, in the days long before_. _Hera could see her now - Rhea _Meter Theon (Mother of the Gods), _siting in her fading home at Mount Othrys, apparently unconcern with how it diminished with each day that passed, since the fall of the Titans. But her back remained regal, seemly out of habit, and her golden curls (so like Demeter's) tumbled loosely beneath the plain, cloud-spun _himation_ (so like Hestia...) that she never failed to draped over her head, with the utmost dignity.

Diminished or not...Rhea remained in all things a _Queen._ And thus she always would be, until the end of all days.

_If you are to be Queen you must be calm - or else you'll go mad. Be like a river Daughter. Show a gentle surface, and conceal you Power underneath. Be kind and nurture wherever you can...but be cruel whenever you must. Once this is yours, you must be willing to fight for it - for the shake of those whom you will have to protect...and on that note, Hera, you must learn that as Queen, there will be times when you must swallow your pride and yield._

It was these memories that had Hera raise up her chin in elegant submission, despite the burning in her cheeks. A contradictory course of action to be sure, she groused silently to herself...but the only one that remained open to her. There was nothing to gain by challenging Zeus - and at their _wedding feast_ no least! At best she would make a proper fool of herself...and at worse, she might anger the thunder god to the point where he _would_ stripped Iris of her epithet, just to spite her.

The marriage goddess shuddered slightly as the little girl's imaginary screams bounced within her mind. So for the child's shake, she held her tongue.

Besides...Hera was _Queen_...and she would _not_ lower herself to the manner of a spoiled concubine. That was beneath her dignity. But despite these high objectives, the following events made any thought of dignity fly out of her mind.

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Iris pranced besides her new friend with energy that rival a newborn filly, the the goddess and the Oread making their way steadily from table to table. Diligently, the girls assumed the quick, stream-like movements, that the rest of the servants employed in their severing task. And by trial and occasional error (which Echo was kind enough to cover up) the rainbow goddess soon had the comfortable feeling that she was starting to get the gist of it once again.

So far the most important rule was this: It was bad manners to look the guest in the eyes while replenishing their drink (this she already knew from serving Poseidon's court) and even worse form to linger. If a guest spoke to a servant, it was up to them to find a fast, but respectful, way to _leave_ the conversation.

(Preferable in a way that would make the guest give complements to their masters - a happy master meant an unbeaten servant).

It was all going so well, she could almost forget that these dratted sandals were strangling her poor, perfectly miserable feet.

"Now normally you wouldn't be serving the others tables Iri," Echo informed her when they had a moment to themselves. "As Queen Hera's Handmaiden you would normally only serve her, Zeus, and the rest of the Parthenon - not these lower tables. That's for the rest of us. But because this is a wedding celebration and so many foreign deities are here-"

"They want to show off," Iris finished wisely, her wide eyes glowing with delight at the knowledge. "This is the first party since the war ended, and they want to world to see that they are superior than the Titans."

Echo winked at her cheekily, and grinned with utmost wickedness. "Took the words right out of my mouth."

Glaring up suddenly, the Oread's brown orbs gleam with recognition. "Looks like Lady Demeter wants her drink replenished. You better get going."

"Alright," the child-goddess chirped brightly, gripping her water-pitcher and bouncing away up the steps to Demeter's _kline_ at the Olympians' tables. It was ridiculously easy to pick her out from among the rest.

After all Demeter _Chthonia (Of the Earth) _was the only goddess who had a child on her lap, who was currently playing with her mother's many bronze necklaces - a child who'd been fathered by _the Thunderer _himself, in the last year of the war (mercifully _before_ he married Hera, for both the child's shake and for Lord Zeus).

The harvest goddess' hair was a wild mess of honey-blond curls; tamed solely by a woven diadem of grain stacks, with the upper part loosely gathered in a knot. Her chiton was a fine, translucent green, perfectly compliantly her motherly figure with a flowing caplet and silver girdle. Best of all her green eyes, lighter than Hera's, seemed to Iris to be mild, and even kind.

"So _your_ the little goddess that Olympus is buzzing about," was the first thing Demeter said as she rolled on her side, legs crossed at her ankles, with her honey-blond head curiously tilted as she looked Iris over, from color-streaked head to very sour toes. Her daughter immediately scrambled behind her in a squirrel-like manner, peering at the Handmaiden with wide eyed wonder.

It quickly became apparent that this was the real reason Demeter wanted her cup replenished.

The child-goddess gave a modest shrug. "I don't presume to know milady," she skillfully demurred as she poured more nectar into the harvest-goddess' _kylix_. "I only arrived last night."

Demeter propped herself up on her elbow, and took a slip from her cup before setting it down, and arching a fair eyebrow at the girl in a way that reminded her of Hera. "That may be, but Poseidon has been spreading tales of your talents, as well as the role you played in carrying our messages in the war...if half of what he said is true, you are quite accomplished for one so young."

Iris blinked. Poseidon was telling tales about her...and _good_ tales at that? In the entire time she and her mother had been under _cough_\- imprisoned in -_cough_ his care, he had spoken a grand total of six words a day to her. Exactly.

Demeter must have read the look of shock on her face, because her own turned wry.

"Now _child,"_ she said in an almost chiding tone, like the _Megala Thea_ was disappointed. "you can't honestly believe Poseidon wouldn't milk this for all it was worth. After all, he is the one who gave you to my sister...the better _you_ perform, the more glory it will bring _him_."

Iris made a face. She couldn't help it. Yes, yes that would explained it.

Demeter laughed. "Sweet One, you look like a kitten that had a pile of water dropped on it!"

Then her dimpled smile turned downwards, and her laughing eyes grim. "You look very much like your mother, young Iris. I...was sorry to hear of her fate. She was a gracious and most clever lady."

The rainbow goddess froze at that, not daring to believe her ears. In all the time since they end of the war, not once had _anyone_ protest the sad lot that had fallen on Electra. Iris had begun to think that no one other than herself and her sisters even cared.

Evidently someone did...and someone _powerful_ at that.

"I...I thank you milady," Iris managed to reply. "That is kind."

Here the goddess shuddered. "I think _empathetic_ would be a better way to describe it child...to be brought down from a Queen of the Sea is horrid enough, but to then depraved her of her children...I don't know how Electra can bare it."

As she spoke, Lady Demeter reached behind her and looped one arm around her own daughter tightly, almost as if she feared someone would snatched the toddler out of her grasp if she didn't keep hold of her - the little one look a tad uncomfortable.

Now Demeter looked Iris directly in her multicolored eyes. "If you ever want to send your mother a message, come to me, and perhaps we can find a way."

The child-goddess' legs nearly gave out from under her. A message to her mother...the hope seem to good to be true...too good to even be _thought. _

Yet Demeter's face was perfectly serious. "Thank you, Great Goddess," Iris breathed out. "You are worthily named _Anesidora (Sending up Gifts). _But...I must go now."

Demeter raised her chin, her face already glowing with a burst of Power than made her refreshed and energized. "Then get gone. Wave bye-bye to Iris, Kore."

For the first time, the brunette toddler behind her mother raised her head to fully look at Iris with large green orbs -just like her mother. Shyly, the little girl waved a tan hand up and down.

"Bye-bye Iris," The child parroted so sweetly, that the rainbow goddess couldn't help but smile back.

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Echo looked alarmed when Iris made her way back over to her -a good five minutes after she had left. "Zeus' thunderbolts Iris!" She exclaimed. "_What_ did Demeter want with you?"

"Nothing bad Echo," Iris hasten to reassure the mountain nymph. "Nothing bad at all...but I don't want to talk about it -not _here_."

With her eyes, Iris motion to Chere, who had witness the whole exchange, though it was clear from the frustrated look on her face that the mean-spirited Oread hadn't heard a word.

Currently the slender girl was attempting to charm little Kore...but without much luck. The older girl's hard eyes and too-eager smiles only succeed in make the baby goddess cry - prompting an irate Demeter to harshly sent her away.

Echo relaxed slightly, but still seemed worried.

"Alright Iris, I understand..." she yielded. "But as soon as you feel you can, I want you to talk to me about this, you understand? It's a bad idea to accept _anything_ from a higher god without considering the consequences, never mind an Olympian, those that do usually end up -"

Echo never finished her sentence, because just then, the piercing sound of feminine screams came roaring from outside the hall.

"No! NO! I _will not_ attend! I wish no harm but I can not abandon my conscious!_ I WILL NOT!_ Please leave me in peace-"

At this point all conversation had come to a halt, and Iris felt the ichor chill in her veins. _What on Olympus?!_

Instinctively, she drew closer to her older friend, at the same time Echo was reaching out for her - obviously having the same idea that there was safety in numbers. Together they back up until they were in en-wrapped in a cluster of equally puzzled, uneasy servants.

"What going on?" Iris whispered, more frightened than she cared to admit. The marigold-haired Oread could only shrugged helpless. "I don't know Iris..."

Then Echo's eyes widen, and her merry face paled. "But I think we're about to find out."

Following her friend's gazed, the child-goddess felt a lump form in her throat at the sight the before her. Two burly Cyclopes were storming into the hall, the face's indifferent to the withering figure they dragged behind them. To judge by her wet-looking curls, and teal tinted eyes, she was a Naiad -a fresh water nymph.

And it look as if she had been dragged through the mud.

On her slender person, she wore a chiton that no longer covered her properly, torn and tattered as it was (seeing it made Iris fidget guilty in her own clean clothes). So in between all of her struggling, the Naiad had the added burden of trying to keep herself decent -though due to the Cyclopes holding her arms, this proved to be impossible - and few of the bolder men even dared to break the instinctive silence hooted at her.

It was just a regular nymph - one Iris had never laid eyes on before. What could she have possibly done to warrant this treatment? The war was suppose to be over...

But while the child-goddess didn't recognize her, Echo evidently _did;_ and the Oread's hands flew up to cover her mouth in shock terror.

"_Chelone_," she managed to gasped out through her fingers, in a horrified breath.

The Naiad -_Chelone_\- was carelessly thrown before the King and Queen's dais. She scrambled to her feet, and immediately tried to arranged her sift so that it better preserved her modesty.

Meanwhile, King Zeus began to address her.

"I assume you know why your here, Nymph," the king of the gods informed her casually, as though he had only asked her the state of the weather, as he leaned back in his _thronos _with anempty _kylix_ dangling lazily from his fingers.

Chelone glared up at him, furious, as her thin arms protectively wrapping themselves around her frame. She was an older look nymph; appearing to be in her late twenties to early mortal thirties.

"No I believe I_ don't,"_ she spat out. "For what purpose O_ Mighty King _did you see fit to break the sanctity of the Home, and drag me to this place like a common Harlot? I have no quarrel with you Zeus."

The room itself seem to suck in an astounded gasp, and Iris thought that she would choke. What -how...was this Nymph _mad?! Utterly mad?!_

Hera certainly seemed to think so, because as she leaned closer her shining emerald orbs narrowed into snake-like slits, and her nostrils flared like an temperamental bull's.

"Oh _really?"_ _Leukolenos _asked in clipped tones. "Then pray tell us Nymph -why did you see fit to be absent from our wedding?"

Staring up at_ Basileia, _in all her terrible beauty and authority, the barest hint of fear crossed Chelone's face; taking root in the tightest in her mouth, and blooming in the paleness of her cheeks. But despite this fear Chelone didn't cower away from looking the Queen in the eyes.

In fact...Iris could almost believe that the nymph's glare held..._pity._

"I am sorry milady, to give any offence...but it is unavoidable I'm afraid," here the Naiad swallowed hard, gathering her courage before lifting her chin, and carrying on in a steadfast tone that did not tremble. "I did not come - I _could not_ come because this entire marriage is invalid. Lord Zeus has already wed another-"

After those words, the Naiad said more, but they were lost due to all Hades braking loose.

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**Reviews make me happy, so tell me what you thought, and I'll update sooner.**

**Well, it was nice knowing you Chelone -the Thomas More of Greek Mythology- we barley knew ya.**

**So how was that? and Iris' meeting with Demeter and Baby Persephone? I see the actress Jennifer Aniston for the harvest goddess.**


	8. Truth and Lies

**nlgirl17: THANK YOU! I WILL NEVER GET TIRED OF FANFICTION! that I promise you!**

**Jack-O-Lanterns Light The Sky: Here's that new chapter! Sorry it took so long!**

**BookPowers: Yes, poor Chelone...**

**Vanessa Masters: Yes poor electra...Iris will have contact with her again, I promise.**

**Anastasia The Goddess of Drama: Your welcome!**

**overlordred: Thanks I hope you enjoy this next one!**

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Chapter 8: Truth and Lies

The instant those intrepid, reckless, _dangerous _words parted Chelone's lips, anarchy exploded. The sky itself became blacken, like a charcoal tree after a lighting strike, clouds of monstrous thunder falling like a funeral shroud over the slopes of Mount Olympus - and effectively destroying any remaining fragments of the previously festive atmosphere. The entire assembly was in an uproar, and the servants soon found themselves cowering against the columns, desperate to become invisible.

Most didn't have either the ability or the luck.

Somehow in the mist of this madness, Iris and Echo found themselves clinging to each other for protection. Instinctively they knew that if they didn't stand together, the two of them could be uprooted like tree saplings in the coming storm.

The divine guests were leaping in droves to their feet, spring from their dinning couches and tables as if Lady Hestia had lit her hearth fire under them. Some of them wasted no time in exclaiming their shocked amazement, while others immediately whipped around to face the _Thronos;_ eager to see how the Greek King and his bride would react to such an brazen assault to the Queen's honor.

Judging from the gleeful anticipation playing across their faces like grotesques theater masks, the rainbow goddess knew with gut churning clarity that they all expected to wittiness a blood-bath of godly proportions. And that they were _anticipating_ it.

...Well maybe not _all_ of them. From where she and Echo were huddled, Iris could just make out the crouching form of Hestia huddled off to the side, apart from the others - huddled with her head in her hands. Though whether she was despairing or just crying, Iris didn't know. She didn't want to know either. But she felt a little better when her shape eyes noticed a weary looking male god, dressed in a humble chiton with only a _chlamys_ cloak thrown about him, discreetly making his way to the hearth goddess's side. Without a word he griped her arms and pulled her to her feet, and in response she buried her head into his bearded jaw, the hand that bore her bangle clutching at his shoulder.

Somehow Iris found the courage to lift her eyes up to the dais, and what met them was one of the most incredible, and _horrifying,_ sights the child-goddess would ever seen in her short life -Zeus_** Astrapios** (Lightening Welder), _had risen to his feet with a _bang _that put even the worse of Poseidon's earthquakes to shame, clothed in the true brilliance of his divinity. The sort that would be fatal to eyes of mortals.

(Gods, it was almost too much for _them_, the child reflected with some irony, noting that many of assembly had averted their eyes, seeming to fear that Kronides would strike them if they met his gaze. The cowards, first baiting, only to be fearful that it could be their own ichor.)

Bands of white-fire slithered across heavens like the grotesques fingers of a condemning hand, and launched themselves like arrows from the thunder god's suddenly all-white eyes. And when he spoke, it was in the voice of a million approaching thunderstorms _-three one-thousand, two one-thousand, one-thousand..._

"_You dare-"_

"_I_ dare? Oh yes I_ dare!" _Chelone screamed back, howling to be heard over the merciless roaring of the wind. Her hair was wild and so were her eyes -and in them was housed a look nearly all the gods could recognized. Iris sure did. The look of a warrior during his last stand. Of a deer about to be caught by the hinds...the look of immediate end.

Chelone was done for. Iris knew it, weeping Echo knew it, _everyone_ knew it.

Even the Naiad herself knew it...one could tell that she did from the weary acceptance on her face. But with that acceptance, there was a fierce determination in the line of her jaw to be_ heard_ before the fatal bow fell. "It is the _truth!_ You saying otherwise does not undo that! I was_ there!_ Metis was my_ friend_-"

"YOU PRESUMPTUOUS, LYING, LITTLE _BICTH!"_ Hera shrieked backed, have risen to her own feet. Shock waves of Power erupting from her own aura, in a manner that almost rivaled her husband's. The Queen's teeth were bared and flashing - a lioness ready for the kill. "DO YOU THINK YOU CAN SPREAD SUCH REVOLING SLANDER AND LIVE TO TELL OF IT!?

Chelone shook her head. "No, Great Goddess...nor do I expect to speck the truth and live to tell of it!" A bitter burst of sobbing laughter shook her frame as the water nymph sank to the floor; her legs no longer capable of supporting her.

Iris felt moisture run down the side of her cheek. _Oh gods here it comes..._

"I...I knew this," Chelone forced out, as if the words pained her, her body trembling from head to toe. "That's why I remained in my home-"

"_Silence," _Zeus boomed out in a low rumble, his eyes cool and unreadable. Chelone released a shuddering breath, and bowed her head.

There was nothing more to say.

...Or perhaps there was, because as the King step down the dais to circle around her, the Naiad's head suddenly shot up.

"Strike me dead if this be a lie, Zeus," she challenged brazenly (what had she to lose?) and her next few words _dripped_ with sarcasm. "_O God of Law and Moral Contact_."

After that Chelone fell silent and so did the King, and with their eyes, they engaged in a conversation unheard by any other. For a full minute they kept at it - neither of them looking away. (Up on the dais during this, Hera's face had scrunched up until it looked like she had swallowed something particularly sour.)

...Finally Zeus spoke.

"Death is to good for one such as you," he declared in a manner that was clearly meant for all present to hear. Glaring down at the nymph who crouched at his feet, Zeus sighed heavily, and with his hand he hide his bearded mouth. He shook his mighty head...and passed his judgment.

"You will live Chelone - but as an example for the rest. You say that you prefer to shell up in that home of yours? Do that than support your King and his Queen? Very well then. From now on...you will carry your home on your back. For all eternity."

And just like that it was done.

Already on the floor, Chelone double over at the waist with a gasp of raw pain. Her face twisted with it, and the air was soon filled with the _revolting_ sound of bones first breaking, then rearranging, while their wreathed owner underwent her determined punishment.

To the audience's delighted repulsion, the Naiad's lovely hair began falling out in large clumps, and her smooth skin began pealing off like bad tree bark. Her teeth vanished beneath her gums and her clothing disappeared from her body -only this time nobody leered or hooted...there wasn't anything left for the men to leer _at. _

...Transformation was pitiless affair. This the rainbow goddess had always known, young though she was.

But seeing it up close -and first hand- was another thing altogether. Iris' stomach revolted as Chelone withered and _shranked_ like a dying leaf before her eyes, and her own legs very nearly gave out. If Echo hadn't been holding on to her, she would had collapse in a heap on the tiled floor.

Feelingly detached from herself, Iris numbly observed as the last of Chelone's metamorphose took place - in which her neck was stretched, her back was arched, and her lovely head turned into some _horrid_ combination of a snake, with a bird's jaw. And her eyes became blacker than the pits of Tatarus and just as endless.

And then it was over, and there was dead silence in the Dinning Hall, as the assembly took in the newly made creature before them.

Chelone's new form was not by any means large - in fact it was down right_ puny _if one were to be honest. It was a dwarf of a creature, the vast majority of the nymph's new body being the helmet-like shell that covered her back.

_You will carry your home on your back, for all eternity._

Iris felt faint...It seemed that when the Lord Zeus had said that, he had meant it _literally._

Having gained the sense that the main danger had passed them by, the deities began to mutter amongst themselves, sharing testimony to make sure that they had in fact witness what they had seen with their own eyes. The muttering gradually got louder, like the building force of a wave, until at last that wave broke onto the shore of black comedy. The chieftain of the Canaan gods suddenly tossed back his oily head and laughed, he howled. The rest of his tribe followed in his wake -though clearly under his or her own desire- and from then on, the majority of Hall followed_ them_.

They laughed as though they had never seen anything so funny in all their lives, and had not ever fell the fear that'd been pliably mere moments before. But some did not laugh -the Blue god of Egypt's face clearly found no humor here, nor did gentler souls among those that ruled the world...Hestia had removed herself from her helper's arms by this time, and thanked him with a nod before stared grim-face ahead. If not for the fact that her cheeks were wet, she could've been made from stone.

This would definitely be a lesson she would not forget.

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The whole lot of them might have been gawking still, had Zeus not ordered the chamber cleared of all persons save for his wife. _His wife and Queen,_ Hera thought venomously, with no small amount of wrath that would put the Furies to shame (Though Hades might disagree with her on that).

Icy fury raced like fiery horses through her veins -deathly cool, all-consuming, and entirely focus on the miserably little animal -the newly dubbed _tortoise_\- that was dutifully picked up by a fumbling servant and carried from the room (with any luck the satyr would drop it own the way to the marsh).

That little bitch should count herself fortunate that Hera's Lord had dealt out her sentence before she could. Hera would not have been _half_ so merciful, had the matter been left to her hands. Though exactly_ what_ she would have done in the face of such blatant disrespect...the marriage goddess didn't know. A part of her was _afraid_ to know.

She closed her eyes, and bit her lip...it would have to have been iconic..._exemplary. _Something that would resonate in the minds of their enemies for eons to come, so that anyone who thought to insult the gods' supremacy would know well the consequences that awaited them...maybe she should look into that spells parchment that Queen Isis of Egypt have given her...

"-Hera," Zeus said suddenly. He was standing directly at her side, his brow furrowed. "Are you even_ listening_ to me?"

Mortified, it was all the Queen could do not to blush at the realization that Zeus had been addressing her. Hera hadn't heard a single word, so engulf was she in her dark ocean of her mussings.

"...No my Lord... I apologize," she forced out with a façade of steadiness. "I am...I fear that my nerves have been strain by these...events."

Here her lip curled, as fresh rage coiled within her, a snake ready to strike. "Never in all my_ life_ have I heard such vulgar and outrageous lies. How that nymph got the audacity to speak them...I shall _never_ know. She must have been mad."

In a rare instead, Hera saw that this made her husband uncomfortable, for some reason. The sky god clear his throat, deeply, before running a hand over his mouth and beard - hiding both from her view.

"Ah...yes," Zeus said after a short pause. Coughing suddenly, he looked her over as though his Queen were one of his more volatile thunderbolts - the ones prone to explode in hand if not carefully handled.

"Hera...you may want to sit down."

The marriage goddess blinked. "_Sit down?"_ she repeated almost humorously, arching a questioning eyebrow as she moved to obey - as far as she knew, she hadn't any reason not to obey her Lord King.

In three dignified strives she returned to her seat, and sank down gratefully in it. Wearily, she rubbed her forehead, the tips of her fingers brushing the cool metal of the diadem.

The whole fiasco was giving her a migraine...this was _not_ how she'd envisioned the start of her married life. But no matter, no matter. She sat up then, all the straighter.

"...What is on your mind, my husband?" she prompted graciously, temporarily pushing aside her own affairs so she could see what was troublingly her lord. Just as a proper wife should. "You look as though the Titans just escaped Tartarus," she added teasingly.

But still the sky god delayed, looking up at the ceiling rather than her, before finally he snapped his fingers and summoned a _kylix _to float before Hera's eyes - the blood-red contents sloshing over it's broad rimed sides. Her lip curled somewhat. It was mortal wine...not godly nectar.

"...My lord?" Hera asked again, more uncertainly this time. An ill-at-ease sensation had arisen in the pit of her gut, and all her instincts had started to flare. Something...something was not right here.

Zeus sighed. "Trust me Hera, you'll want to take this with some wine."

By this point, the marriage goddess' emerald gaze narrowed into slits once more, her nails tightening their grip on the armrests of her _thronos. "_Take_ what, _my lord?" she repeated with significant ice in her tone.

Her husband's next words were pulled from him as unwillingly as teeth - slowly, hesitatingly, and with the confirmed knowledge that pain was sure to follow.

"...Chelone's words are...were not..._entirety_ lies."

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"WHAT?!"

The shrill screech tore through the air of her husband's dominion, and shook the very foundations of the Olympic Palace. Ichor thundered in Hera's ears, deafening her to any other noise beside that of the ringing in her ears, like a thousand mocking voices.

Her vision zoomed in Zeus' stiffly standing form, loathing the collated, if cautious, look that had come over his face. Naturally Hera was on her own feet by this point, rage distorting her face.

...Rage that was replaced by disbelieving _ incredulity_ as Zeus began to hastily weaved her a tale of how a young god in hiding from the old order had courted gray-eyed Metis, Daughter of Oceanus. Of how - while exceedingly fond of him- the minor goddess proved her worth as the patroness of wise counsel, when she agreed to meet the thunder god only with a chaperon - be it her mother, one of her servants, or her dear friend - Chelone the Naiad.

And that after laying down the battle strategy for the war - and Zeus made it clear that he intended to have her - Metis had agreed to consort with him. Providing that that they were married that is.

_Married._

Suddenly there was weakness in the marriage goddess' knees, and her legs could no longer support her. She would have fainted dead away and hit the shinning floor, if Zeus hadn't conjured a cushion divan to catch her. The shock of having her fall broken brought Hera back to herself. She struggled to sit up, viciously swatting away the sky god's offered hand. (Oh, _now_ he wished to help her?! It was a little late for that!)

_Married._

Then the Naiad had been _right._ Her union was a _sham_. With trembling fingers Hera touched the cool circlet of her mother's once more - the part of the_ polos_ crown that was wore under the butterfly diadem that Iris had picked out.

It wasn't hers. It had never been hers. The crown of Rhea had been wasted on the hubristic Ocean's daughter, a little bitch that had reached far above her station.

_Married. _

She would never live down this disgrace.

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**Reviews make me happy so tell me what you thought and I'll update sooner. Also I have been doing some serious editing, so if ya like, read the story from the beginning.**

**So in recap...Chelone is now the tortoise (did you guys like the transformation scene?) and Iris got a first hand look at capital punishment on Olympus. Also Hera just had a bombshell drop on her...you know that awkward moment when your spose tells you there's another women...well, we all know where how understand and mild temper the Queen is...I'm sure she'll be reasonable...**

**Also...IVE GRADTUATED HIGH SCHOOL! CONGA*CONGA*CONGA!**


	9. Politics and Everyday Life

_Alaster Boneman :Thanks, it hard to write the nature of gods, but I had fun. Hope you keep reading._

_Guest: Don't worry Athena and everybody will be in this sooner or later!_

_nlgirl17: Thanks! I hope this chapter has you shivering too!_

_Guest: YEs an Update! Here You Go!_

_Lady Ahminrah:Thank you! Hera is a fascinating character to write I can tell you. I hope you enjoy this side of her._

_Jack-O-Lanterns Light The Sky: Thank you for calling it beautiful. You writers name is awesome._

_Vanessa Masters: Yes, Zeus knows there are things more powerful than himself...but he will try to use that to his advantage._

_BookPowers: Well he will a little...but not a lot._

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chapter 9: Politics and Everyday life

"Hera. _Hera." _The word, name, resounded with meaning, equal part indulgence and commanding. The Thunderer was suddenly besides her on the _kline_, his large hands framing her face as if he were a potter, griping a clay lump he'd just thrown atop his wheel. He held her firmly to bring the clay back into shape.

"Hera my love, you have nothing to fear-"

'"Nothing to fear?"' NOTHING TO FEAR?!" Hera shrieked as she wrenched herself free from Zeus' hold, her rising voice loud enough for all of Olympus to hear. Ha! _Let_ them hear! Let _all_ of the world know of her disgrace, so she could have it over and done with! Her manner was wild, utterly wild. In a rage, the marriage goddess's slim fingers balled themselves in her glorious hair and mercilessly began tearing the tresses out from the roots, along with the headbands and pins that Iris had so carefully arranged.

Flinging the clumps across the room, she whirled on her supposed husband with fury on her face and the liquid pieces of her heart gleaming in the corners of her eyes.

"I-Have-_Everything_-To-Fear," Hera hissed through gritted teeth, longing to throw a barbarian's war ax into Zeus' lying mouth. Where were the Norse gods when you needed them? "I am _ruined." _

Her throat closed, and Hera gasped, suddenly unable to say any more. Her vison dimmed, cloaking the airy space of the Hall in a suffocating darkness that the Underworld could not hope to achieve. What...what on Gaia would become of her? How would she ever show her face to anyone after this, be he god or Man? What would her mother -her _mother__\- _say when she learned that her daughter had disgraced her crown this way? Without warning, something wet made it's way done her undefiled cheek. S-she was-

"No," Zeus cut her off calmly, as he stood before of her with strong arms folded over his chest. "Your not."

..._what?_

Hera stared poison daggers at him as disbelief and anger warring for dominance of her face. "_What do you mean I'm_ _not?"_ the goddess demanded, as bitter ire boiled in her stomach. She clenched her hands in an effort to restrain it, to the point where her nails broke the skin on her palms. Disgust threatened to overwhelm her. Bad enough that the sky god had ruined her - now he had the gull to _lie_ about it? Enough was _enough_.

"You just said-"

"Yes I said," Zeus said drily. "But you do not hear."

"-that you married that whore Metis-"

"No I didn't. It never happened Hera."

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And for the second time in under an hour, Hera's entire world sift under her feet.

"...What?" the marriage goddess said, almost blankly. Her hands had unclenched -somewhat- and dangled limply at her sides. "What?" she repeated.

Zeus motioned to the recline couch again. "First take your seat love."

After a heavy pause...Hera obeyed and the thunder god once more sat besides her. Only this time he took her dainty hands, and pressed them between his own. "Hera -_Beloved_," he began imploringly. "Yes I courted Metis -long before I ever met you- just as I courted others..."

Hera stiffened, her nostrils flaring like a bull's as she gave the ruler of the world the Evil Eye. _Oh yes_, she remembered those who'd came before her. Themis, Mnemosyne, Eurynome, her own sister Demeter, and gods know had many nymphs.

The list went on and on. Back in those days, there seemed to of been a new consort for every sunrise, and then every sunset. Beautiful girls, shimmering girls, delicate girls, _brainless girls. S__uch_ a disgrace to their crown divinity - frankly, Hera wouldn't have been surprised if the Thunderer had even tryst with _mortal_ women, despite their primitive, unkempt state_._

And all of those worthless jades had bore their paramour's worthless children, resulting in the god who was called _**Ceraunius** (Of the Thunderbolt) _having himself a field of gentle, _flower_-like daughters; their blood lacked the resolved needed for them to become goddesses of the Pantheon.

Watching Zeus burn threw his women had been the greatest amusement for the rest of the inhabitants of Olympus; with the womenfolk swooning over the allure and beauty of the whirlwind liaisons, (though later scorning it when the wenches' time with the sky god ended) while the men wryly placed bets on how long they would last.

"...Yes Zeus," she said with a biting edged. "I remember." Narrowing her eyes, the marriage goddess pointedly added, "But I failed to see how reminding me of your whoreamouring has _any_ relevance to our discussion."

The king of the gods sighed, running his hand over his bearded face. "It has relevance because my time with Metis was the same sort of affair. Our pledge never came to fulfillment."

Eyes bulging in a most unattractive way, Hera gaped at him. "_She changed her mind?"_

Zeus shook his head. "No, I dismissed her."

"..._What? _Dismissed_-"_

"I dismissed her," Zeus repeated steadily not braking eye contact with her. His blue gaze grew as distain as the sky, becoming clouded with memories only he could see. "Things had...unexpected developments. And the end of it meant that Metis was no longer fit for marriage. She is _gone_ Hera, having never been my wife. Only my Queen. And that title now belongs to you...Hera, the All Knowing _Moirai _themselves crowned you. Would they have done that if it could not be?"

No, they wouldn't have. They would never have allowed it.

The marriage goddess sat as still as stone, her face expressionless. But her oxen-eyes churned like the murky waters of the Styx as her mind struggled to make sense of it. She breath in sharply through her nose, and out through her mouth. Queen...she was still Queen. And more importantly, she was not ruined. But...but that would mean-

That would mean that they had a entirely new set of problems.

She pulled her right hand free, and pressed the fingertips to her mouth. "Queen or not though," she murmured tensely, before her hands moved on their own accorded to her hair, using some of her Power to bring the wayward tresses back into line. "We will still_ never_ live this down Zeus...people will talk about this for centuries. And in the backs of their minds...there will always be the question of whether that nymph told the truth."

"Ridiculous!" the thunder god exclaimed, his face displaying the absurdity of the very thought. "You are my queen Hera _Basileia._ My queen as well as my lawful_ wife_. Anyone who claims otherwise is directly challenging my authority, and will be dealt with."

"It's not enough to just deny it over and over again!" Hera cried out furiously, her hair once more arrange in solemn dignity. Raising a fist, she slammed it down into the soft cushions that lay beneath her frame. "It would only encourage the fire! And if enough of Olympus questions my legitimacy...what is to stop them from questioning _yours?_ Stop some goddess from encouraging her son to challenge you?"

Zeus face instantly darkened as he caught on to her meaning, and another crash of thunder rumbled ominously in the still gray sky. Uneasy rest the head that wore a crown, as the old saying went. History had already proven as much with the violent dethroning of Coronus - and of his father Uranus before him.

This was half the reason why the Thunderer had allowed for the creation of the Pantheon. To prevent such a thing from happening again. It had been a hard tonic to swallow - the idea of sharing Power. The gods of every race and creed desired that invisible nectar, almost as much as they desired physical things of beauty to amuse themselves with. It was simply their nature. But Zeus was a wise god, and one of the few who could learn from mistakes be they his own - or preferable another's.

Neither Coronus or Uranus had _ever_ entertained the thought of sharing their Power -or even of binding their subjects to them by any means other than force - arrogantly thinking that the rod without the carrot would be enough for the population they had considered their mules. But history had twice proven just how very, very, mistaken they were.

...Sooner or later, Zeus did not doubt that he would stir a godly-son. It was inevitable. But if said sons (and daughters when he stirred some of strong blood) were bounded to him from the moment of their birth under Pantheon Law, he would have no reason to fear them. There were something in this world that even gods could not break.

But none of the magic put into creating the Pantheon would work, if he haven't a Queen to balance it besides him. And even though he did have one...they had just finished a war. He had no desire to endure another over some misguided dispute.

The gods of Olympus were bound to him by their oaths, but mere words spoken through smiling teeth were not enough. The fall of Coronus and Uranus had proven that. There was another, more permeant way...but it had never been done on such a large scale before. The sky god had wanted to wait a few centuries, and ease the population into it...but once again, it seemed as though there had been unexpected developments.

"Their is a way to prevent that, Hera," the god said slowly. "But we must wait awhile-"

"'Wait awhile?!'" Hera exclaimed incredulously. She stared at her husband, open mouthed, for she was unable to comprehended his thinking. But Zeus had expected that. For all of Hera's political know-how, and her scheming brilliance...the advantages of subtlety and restrain were lost to her once her temper was aroused, or if she felt threated.

Now was just such a time.

"What possible advantage-" she began to heatedly ask, but her lord cut her off.

"To rush to fast with arouse suspicion my love," Zeus told her firmly. "If we act like we have something to hid, people will logically think that we do...Why wantonly proclaim one's own disgrace, or expose the faults of one's kindred? We must first continued on as though this matter is but a gad-fly to us. Something to be swatted and forgotten...later we will bring the same subject up under a different name, and settle it while keeping face. Do you understand?"

No. No she didn't. But it was clear to Hera that her lord would not be moved on this matter and that she, once again, was required to yield. However, she was not required to lie.

"It shall be as you wish Zeus," she answered him wearily.

The thunder god's eyes gleamed. "Thank you Beloved. Now here is what we shall do..."

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"Come on now Iris," Echo huffed encouragingly to the younger girl as they dragged a two wheel cart behind them out of the last gate of Olympus, each girl gripping a handle. Tossing her scarf wrapped head backwards, she added, "Use your legs." -almost as an after thought.

"But what about our arms?" Iris asked in strained reply, even as her hand moved to shove her mother's diadem back up her forehead. "Aren't we using those too?"

"Well yes...but their hardly doing anything-"

"Well I think they'd disagree, if you were to asked them," the rainbow goddess stated dryly, as she gave another determined pull. "_Mine_ surely would."

"Oh be quiet you little smart Ass," Echo sipped fondly, the playfulness in the Oread's tone taking away any bite to her words.

The two girls had, slowly but steadily, trudged their way out of the Olympic citadel of fine villas, and down a well traveled path to the icy streams running in like life-veins throughout the mountainside. By the time they were out that last gate, their little cart was filled to the point of overflow with the ordained gowns of their Olympic mistresses, destined for a good washing.

It had been three hundred days since the disastrous wedding breakfast, and the unfortunate Chelone's transformation (her new self had since been released into a nearby marsh). And mercifully, things seemed to have returned to normal...or at least as normal as things ever got here. Which was a good thing, because for a while, none of them had been so sure that a happy outcome was in order. Naturally, Queen Hera had been upset over Chelone's mad claims, and Iris hadn't envied Lord Zeus' task of calming her in such a state. (Nearly all of Olympus had heard the marriage goddess's increasingly frantic screams, and the sky's blacken grumblings...)

But all was well that ended well. Zeus and Hera had yet to return from their wedding retreat - which was part of the reason Hera's servants had been more or less rented out to the other Ladies of Olympus.

Iris giggled and released a contend sigh, tipping her face upwards to bask in Helios' soft, mid morning rays.

Life as a Hera's handmaiden had turned out to be well suited for her, very well suited. The few steady friendships that Echo had helped her broker, and the respected titled she claimed helped to keep the still occasional pangs of home-longing from being as..._crippling _as they were that first morning.

Combining all that with the paradox unpredictability brought by every single day, the child goddess found that she didn't have time to be the lost, lonely little girl she'd been.

It was a_ nice_ feeling, she reflected.

The road that they traveled on was a pleasant one. The grass beneath their toes was a soft as lambs' fleece, and had been trimmed short enough to keep it from getting caught in the wheels. Meanwhile tactfully keep taller grass encircled a series of pillars, and flowing statues that decorated each side. It made the girls' task as much of a pleasure as it was a chore.

This feeling multiplied tremendously when in due course, they came to the noble river, and found that their friends were already there, lounging on the pebble bed.

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"Hey you lazy wenches!" Echo called down to them, her voice alit and crackling. If Iris hadn't already been accustomed to the Nymph's rowdy ways, she might have been taken aback at the way the Oread cheerfully used particular insults to compliment her friends (she didn't do it with Iris however, having discovered that the rainbow goddess didn't like it when such things were directed at herself. Hades, Echo had even stopped calling her Iri after the nickname grew stale to smaller girl's ears.)

"Get up here and give us a hand you wicked broads!"

Hearing Echo's unmistakable voice, the dozen other girls below immediately leapt to their feet with excited squeals, and as one entity they raced up the hill, their chitons rippling around them like a flock of colorful birds in their cheerfulness.

"Echo! Iris!" They called out with beaming grins as they reached them, hands stretched out in helpful eagerness to share their burden, gripping it's back and sides.

"Oh, we were_ so_ hoping that the two of you would come today," sighed the voice of young goddess named Aglaia, her loosely belted linen shift slipping of her shoulder as she spoke. Iris smiled. Aglaia and her two sisters were some of her favorites amongst their friends. Their sunlight charm and welcoming manners proclaiming them as the patrons of grace well before their beauty did. Even more impressive was the fact that as daughters of Lord Helios, the sun himself, none of them had to be here. But all of them still came, for the joy of their friends.

"It simply isn't they same without you anymore," the young girl added dotingly.

"I should hope it isn't," Echo said smartly with a gleam in her eye. Chuckling, she use one hand to tug her peplos' royal blue skirt into her girdle, freeing up her legs. The rest of girls quickly followed her example -at least those that hadn't already thought to do so. And Iris and a few of the youngest maids didn't have to, as their sifts still reached their knees.

A hamadryad nymph called Cyrene snorted at this impertinent answer, shaking her head as they ease the cart down the hill; her gathered brown curls bouncing with the movement. "That smart mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble someday Echo," she warned sternly as they went. "You mark my words."

"Well considered them marked," Echo assured her saucy. "And _discarded_."

The rest of them laughed.

Cyrene huffed, and rolled her hazelnut eyes to the heavens before letting them drop to earth. "Well, I tried," she muttered under her breath as she adjusted her grip. "No-one can say I didn't try."

"We're all vouch as your witness," Iris assured the older girl, and delighted when this won her a faint smile.

But this point, the maids had reached the riverside, and set down the cart. By the armful, they scooped up the fluttering garments and dropped them into the golden trough that rested partly submerged into the gleaming, fast moving currants.

There was something ironic in their washing the clothes, the rainbow goddess had to admit. After all - they weren't dirty. At least, not in the mortal sense of the word. Olympian attire didn't _get_ dirty and worn like that of the mortals. But every now and then, the magic that keep it that way would lose it shimmer. A good dunking in one of the Olympian streams would bring it back.

They was why each maid unceremoniously drop their bundled into the trough, and trod it down briskly to make room for the rest.

"Oh _Iris_," the river resident raven haired naiad gasped as the rainbow goddess came up form dropping her second load, hands on her hips. Reaching out, the naiad, called Karya, took hold of some of girl's white-gold chiton. "Isn't this elegant?" she grinned. "I haven't seen you in this before -you look like a little wheat field."

"Or a candle flame," Aglaia's sister Thalia chimed in. "It's lovely."

"Thank you," Iris beamed, raising onto her toes in delight. She did a quick turn, allowing her friends to glimpse the small gold ornaments that were sewn in diamond patterns on the clothing, glittering as the fabric moved.

"_Oh_..."the other girls sighed enviously. Even Echo, who'd already seen it.

"Is it linen?" Karya asked with great curiosity. "I've never seen fabric shimmer like that..."

"Nope," Iris chirped, popping the sound from her mouth. For the life of her she couldn't stop herself from smiling. "It's silk."

The girls stared at her -save for Echo, who merely rolled her eyes. "We're never going to hear the end of it now," the Oread muttered in a wry voice. All activity had stopped now.

"S-silk?" Karya repeated dumbly. "You mean-"

"Yep," Iris answered smugly.

"...How in Tartarus did you get your hands on _silk_?"

"It was really simple," Iris told them all grandly. "You know all the silk Queen Hera was given for her wedding?"

At hearing this, Aglaia's merry blue eyes quickly grew to dwarf the golden pendulums that swung from her ears, and one hand flew to her mouth, while the other grasped the amber necklaces that hung around her throat. "Oh Iris," she gasped out. "...please say you didn't steal fabric."

"Of course not!" the rainbow goddess exclaimed. "Lady Hestia and Lady Demeter wanted a surprise for Queen Hera when she and King Zeus return, so they decided to turn the silk into gowns for her. It was such a big task that me and Echo and Chere had to help. And when we were done-"

"There was a little bit of yellow silk left over," Echo finished drily. "Too small for a full length dress, so they made a little one for Iris, since she only had two to her name."

The nymph smiled a the memory. "You should have seen my sister's face."

In response, Cyrene made a disgusted nose in the back of her throat, while Karya threw back her head and howled with laughter.

"Oh I'm sure_ that_ went over well," the naiad snickered. "She probably want to hang the lot of you from your own weaving looms."

"Chere gives all us nymphs a bad name..." Cyrene muttered as she began to gather clothes from the trough, and spread them across the rock. Leaning over the edge the hamadryad made a face into the water. "She's like my cousin Daphne - always with her nose in the air."

"Oh Daphne isn't anything like Chere," Echo said dismissively, as the Oread began to lay out another load - the wet cloth gleaming like liquid jewels. "Daphne just likes to be left alone...Chere likes to control everything around her. I think she's gotten it into her head that she too good for the rest of us...that she should have been born an Olympian."

"That's not they only way their different -" Karya added mischievously,"- if I recall correctly, little Daphne is to proud to let a man have his way between her legs." Her grin widening as all the younger girls blushed.

"And Chere would let a snake slither into her I'm sure," the experienced nymph continued on brazenly, ignoring how Echo's eyes had narrowed as the Oread stilled. "If it got her what she wanted that is-"

"Hey!" Echo cried fiercely, whirling around with such force that end of her bright head-scarf nearly whipped the naiad in the face. "My sister is many things, but she is not a whore!" the Oread girl declared furiously, her finger gabbing in the nymph's direction. "Understood?"

Eyes wide, Karya stumbled back a bit, hands raised in surrender. "Yes Echo," she said at once, unwilling to fight. "I'm sorry."

"...Good," Echo replied after a moment. And that was the end of it. For now anyways. Iris bit her lip...before moving to work as Echo's side. Unpleasant as Chere was, the child goddess could understand why Echo so vigorously defended her sometimes, from what she felt were unjust accusations. Family was Family...even though they might not return the favor.

It was the principle of the thing that mattered.

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For awhile the girls worked in relative silence, the peaceful bubbling of the river setting their work pace. As Helios made his steady way across the sky, they repeated the cycle over and over again -Dunk, trod, lay-out and dry. Dunk, trod, lay-out, and dry.

And as the day wore on, any bad feelings wore away with it; and soon the handmaids of Olympus were laughing again. To pass the time faster, they started up a working song.

"_Oh it's no use Mother_," Echo sung merrily, her voice high as a bird's flight, and finer that it's smoothest feathers.

"_I can not finish my washing__," _Karya continued the tread, like there were no harsh words between them.

"_You may blame the gods_," Iris added on happily.

_"For they have made me sick with looove_," the rest of the group chorused together.

"A wonderful performance girls," a voice from behind told them warmly. "Many congratulations."

Caught off their guard, every girl jumped before they spun around to behold their visitor. And who stood at the riverside but the hearth goddess herself? They all marveled at the sight before recovering their wits, and bowing before the Lady.

"Oh Lady Hestia," Aglaia gasped along with her sisters, and the three of them rose up to hug her -while the rest of their friends remained bent. The Klarities were so charming they were allowed to bend the rules the decorum that the rest of them didn't dare to.

"What are you doing here?" Thalia inquired as they pulled back.

"Normally, you never leave the palace," their sister Euphrosyne finished.

Lady Hestia gave a humble shrug, and twisted her hand around the shinning mantle thrown across her shoulders. "Well, it may come as a surprise to you, but sometimes I like to stretch my legs - the fire will live for a while without me present...but I'm here for Iris _Thaumantias_. My sister has returned, and has a task at hand for her."

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**Reviews make me happy, so tell me what you thought and I'll update sooner.**

**Okay I hope you like the peck into Olympic Politics Zeus and Hera gave us -aren't they a happy couple? Any guess on what task Iris is going to get?**

**Also, how was our rainbow goddess, like I said, it's been three hundred days, so Iris had found some stable footing. She's no lonely anymore either -though her group of friends may shrink as time goes on.**


	10. Iris' Quest

Had love Lost love : Yes I am, sorry it took so long.

Anastasia The Goddess of Drama : Don't worry, their some Hera Iris mother daughterness here.

nlgirl17 : Thank you! I hope you like the dialog here too.

BookPowers : Your welcome.

Vanessa Masters : Hit the nail on the head.

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chapter 10: Iris' Quest

In the same way light from Helios' sun will refuse imprisonment by sliver clouds, or the bolt of lightening, once thrown, is free from the grasp of the lord of thunder, the Power of the hearth goddess' words sprung froth like water from a newly erupted geyser, rushing forward like a spring to fill the vase of the child-goddess' psyche. It poured into it, golden and irrepressible, in the same manner wine was poured to fill a _oenchoe_.

The girl's limbs trembled with the over-flow, and her senses were made aware of how every drop of water in the stream -each more brilliant than lapis- rippling by past stony bedrock, clashing against one another like opposing warriors all the way, their spears locked in ringing battle for all eternity.

She could heard the whispered rustling of the leaves of the laurel trees surrounding them, feel the faint echo of the dryads they use to be before their time on Gaia's surface had ended, and the rays of the sun became their only companions besides the wind.

Iris even saw the subtle movements of her own friends' limbs, as they also reacted in their own ways to the news of her summons. Some of the expressions which played across their faces spoke of clear surprise, but also an unabashed delight, their eyes lighting from within at what, on first glance, seemed to be an excellence turn of fortune for their young friend.

But others felt their brows furrow at the unusual way the news was being brought forth. Never before had Hestia _Presveira_ been a mere errand maid - such a menial task was the rightful duty of a satyr or a nymph. Not the honored sister of the Queen.

But while Iris also noticed this...what could she do? She could hardly refused. With unmaidenly haste, the goddess-child was at the higher _Megala_ _Thea's _side. So swift were her feet, that her friends were left to chough and gape, at the Iris-shape dust cloud left in the Handmaiden's wake.

"Well I guess we know where we rank in the scheme of things," Echo jokingly whispered with a grin, as the girls fanned the dust cloud away from themselves. Cyrene's face turned ghostly white.

"Echo, for once in your life, hold your tongue!" the hamadryad hissed through her teeth, her olive shoulders hunching in dismay as the others stifled their laughs.

"What task, Milady?" the rainbow goddess asked dutifully, as her hand adjusted her diadem so it rested properly on her head. Duty as well as loyalty insisted that she pretended she hadn't heard Echo. Lady Hestia seemed to have taken this course of action as well...though she did raised an apprising eyebrow at the Oread, for the briefest moment. But the Eldest was content to keep her counsel on the matter.

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Turning to Iris, the hearth goddess merely shook her auburn head at her. "I cannot say _Thaumantias_," Lady Hestia replied diplomatically; but her ring-less hand was suddenly tugging her veil across her mouth, and the _Thea's_ burning eyes were downcasted in a show of demureness. "For on the River of Scared Styx, I swear to you that I do not know. My Lady Sister would not confide her thoughts in me."

And though she valiantly tried to hide it, it was evident to all on the riverbank that this new turn of affairs had pained the gentle Olympian deeply. It was reflected in the diminished light of her eyes, and the flexing of her fingertips, and the sound of _loss _that was woven in the words of her voice.

Echo was no longer grinning now; her laughing face having gone grim, and Cyrene was no longer pale with absolute dread. Iris, for her part, was in dismayed amazement, and didn't know what to say or how to say it. From the beginning of the _Titanomakhia _War, all the way to to it's end, the Ladies Hestia and Hera had been each others dearest and most trusted companions. Being the only truly domesticated gods of their order -with the other's being heavily intertwine with the (more often than not) destructive the forces of nature- it had only sense that they'd drawn closer over the years.

They had all but shared a soul, one that merely happen to dwelled within shared minds. Iris remembered how in the evenings after the menfolk had returned, and were resting for battle, the _Megala Theas_ would be seen sitting outside their tents with their heads bent together, as they dreamed of a future beyond the war and it's killing fields. One of order, culture, and hierarchy, which would endure for a thousand years.

But it appeared that the Lady Sisters dreamed separately now.

"Oh," Aglaia breathed out, her eyes rounded with pity, and her hand softly began beating against her breast. "Lady Hestia..."

With one hand the young goddess reached behind her, to _her_ sisters, who grimly clenched it with both of their own. Framed by their dark tresses, the three dawn-touched faces of the Graces told the depths and worth of their sympathy to the Olympian; as vast and everlasting as than the sky their sire traveled.

But Hestia sternly shook her head, and raised a hand to stop the Graces, letting her veil fall.

"No sympathy dear girls," commanded Rhea's eldest daughter. "I am not to be pitied. Not when there will be many far more deserving of it. A sister is a very different creature from a Queen. It is right that her undivided loyalty should no longer belongs solely to me..."

Her lips thinned again, despite her words.

"But no more of this," Hestia said firmly. "Such grave lessons are not for you girls to learn. Not yet. Come _Thaumantias_. The Rulers of Heaven are not ones to be kept waiting."

* * *

0)o(0

It might have merely been her own perspective, but to Iris, it seemed that the distant from the riverbank back to the citadel had shortened considerable. Of course, that could merely be due to the fact that she was flying now, on Lady Hestia's suggestion.

"While I don't know exactly what task they have in store for you _Thaumantias, _I do know that my sister was hard pressed to connivance her husband that you were capable of fulfilling it. But I feel that the Thunderer still has doubt...so you shall need to make an entrance child, one that will show your Power in all it's glory, and have them remember it."

Her Power...what was her Power?

Iris bit her lip as her mind came up empty. She was no great goddess. No _Megala Thea_ \- there were no temples were being raised in her name. No hymens, prayers, or songs had been written in her honor, praising the glory of the rainbow bringer. No race of Men in Greece offered burned meat, or poured libations, for the favor of Iris _Thaumantias_. And if they did, what could she possible offer them?

Should the mortals ever come to know her, and she them, the rainbow goddess strongly doubted that they would ever quiver in her presence. Who would trembled, or respect, a color-adorn goddess maiden? By the thunderbolts...she hadn't even been able to arrange a communication with her mother yet. Wincing Iris quickly turned from that line of thought.

So what was her Power then? What distinguished her, to the point where it could catch the eye of Lord Zeus? Well she...she...

She was, by her father's ichor, a goddess of the sea. With many of the benefits implied by such a lineage - to a small extent, the waves of the deep obeyed her will, as did the creatures who lived there. And by her mother, she was a goddess of the sky - hardly to the extent of being irreplaceable important, but enough that the winds would heed her, should she ever call upon them. To the best of her knowledge, no other deity could claim to have influence, small though it was, in two of the three realms of the world.

And moreover...by the combination of the two, Iris _Thaumantias _had in her possession what no other deity in Greece did, and certainly couldn't command if they had.

_Rainbow, _she summoned within her mind, from purest part of her psyche. _Come._

In answer a soft twang resounded through the air, like the plucked strings of an instrument, ringing like purest sliver. And in a sudden burst of light, the Rainbow was there, shinning and pure and good. Playful as a kitten, it at first soared directly above her, before twirling over her head to fly beneath her, all the while dancing like a tambourine in a temple priestess's hands.

Rolling her eyes, Iris shook her head at her soul's self in mock chastisement. _We've no time for games my friend, come to my hand._

The Rainbow tingled with the order, and with good reason too. It was a rare thing, for a creature to hold its own life-force in hand. Iris had only attempted it a number of times, in greatest need. Now, she felt, was just such a time. After a moment's pause, the Rainbow obeyed. Shrinking itself to a cord like thickness, it twirled it's way into it's avatar's waiting hand. The goddess took it's gleaming coils, and in one swift move, decorated her waist with it, replacing her girdle.

It's ends lashed about, like whips, striking the gold ornaments on her shift and the pearls in her diadem, as well as her violet-blue eyes, setting them alit with divine radiance.

Yes...this was it. This was right. This was her Power, the very essence of herself. Let the other gods strike fear into Men's hearts.

Iris would inspire wonder.

* * *

0)o(0

"My Lord I assure you, she is fully capable," Hera stated, her tone stiff and unbending. Once more, the Queen found herself responding to the question that was again being posed to her - and by her own husband, of all things, she fumed to herself. Frustrated to utter exasperation at their stalemate, the Queen violently strove to keep her temper, and ran her hand down the front of her attire to assure herself that everything was in it's proper place.

She was dressed in a pale green peplos that trailed past her ankles, lavender flowers having been expertly woven into the hem of it's delicate skirt, and onto it's mantle. The linen was so fine, even the slightest breeze caused it to ripple around her legs. Chin up and face impasse, _Leukolenos _was standing tall by her _Thronos._

And yet her fingers clung desperately to it's cold stone, as a shipwrecked sailor would to the floating debris of his vessel in the sea god's ocean. Meanwhile her husband brooded in his own seat. The Lightening Welder had concealed his mouth in his hand as his mind maundered it's own dark corners with uncharacteristic graveness.

And while strands of white lightning shot like arrows across the blue of his eyes, and the blackness of his beard, the Thunderer was carefully to contain it within himself so the sky was undisturbed, and the wider world remained ignorant of their plans and soon-to-be-deeds.

Despite her Lord's efforts, the marriage goddess couldn't deny that the atmosphere in their shining column hall had become rather...electrified...due to the Lightning Welder's rising Power, as her husband wrestled with thoughts that not even she could claim to know. Hera's carefully arranged tresses were beginning to frizz with rising humidity, while slowly, her gown began to clench at her immortal skin. She shifted uncomfortably, and her necklace of a dozen garnet and silver leaves rustled uneasily against her white throat.

Meanwhile Zeus had finally lowered his hand to rest on his gold clothed knee, and breathed out in a way reminiscence of the serpent Python, who guarded the town of Pythia - a very useful but rather unsavory beast.

"So you have said Wife. Again and again," said the lord of the sky. With rising irritation, he added, "And_ I_ still say that the girl is merely your handmaiden - a clever one, perhaps, but in_ my_ sight that is further reason not to trust her with as monumental a task as this! I'm aware that you have been taken with the child-"

"That hardly has anything to do with it My Lord!" Hera protested heatedly, emerald eyes flashing.

"-but if she were to go to a handful of the other gods with the knowledge you wish it given her, it could very possibly spell the beginnings of another war."

Her face flushing with royal indigence, the Queen's discomfort suddenly fled from her like water off a drake's back. "It is not as though I thrill at the situation we're in _my lord_," the White Armed snapped back, with the pettiness of a small dog. "A situation that _you_ were good enough to get us into, might I remind you-"

Zeus's eyes flared at that, and the humidity in the hall cracked suddenly, like a stinging blow to the face. But Zeus again restrained himself. After all, it wasn't as though he had a defense to such an honest statement. But Lord of Olympus stayed ridged in his seat, and it took Hera a moment to realize that her husband was counting to ten.

Wisely adopting a softer tone than the one she'd previously used, Hera summoned all her courage to carried on her argument. "And if not Iris...who could fulfill this task? Hestia? Prometheus? Epimetheus? You know that they would never agree...and then we would have to punish them for disobedience. Or Hades himself, perhaps? He would never willingly surrender a richness that only he possesses. You and I cannot walk into another god's domain without expressed invitation...there is no other choice Milord. I would not trust this task to a half-wit nymph."

* * *

0)o(0

After saying this, Hera firmly closed her mouth and waited, her oxen eyes imploring. She held her breath as Zeus breathed out again, a much more weary sound than before, and his great fingers moved to rub his brow beneath his golden-crown of laurel leaves. Glancing up at his Queen, his great face suddenly soften, and the Thunderer gestured for the White Armed to take her _Thronos. _

"Sit Hera," he commanded her gently. "Let us be friends in this matter."

At once she obeyed, for she'd be a fool not too- and as she delicately took her smaller seat at the Lightening Wielder's left-hand side (the right being where he kept his thunder-bolts) the marriage goddess was pleasantly surprised when her lord took her hand in his own, causing her heavy bangles to chime and rattle. Glaring around at the three remaining _Thronoi, _that were vacant of their owners, and the dim burning of the hearth that sat lonely in it's center place, Hera felt their grip tighten.

This bond between them, full of angry affection, was their one true shield they had against all the rest, and until the time came where her body gave them children, strong children, to insure their hold on the Pantheon, it would remain their only shield.

"...I supposed your right, my Lady," the sky god murmured, as he gazed up at the carved ceiling. "We only have bad options here...and yours seems to be the best of them."

Hera's heart swelled in her breast, and she swallowed painfully. Inclining her head so that her circlet gleamed in late morning light, she tightened her grip on her husband's hand, so that her marriage ring pressed into his palm. "Thank you Milord."

Zeus offered her the faintest twitch of his lips before his face furrowed once more, like a pondering lion. "Yet even so..." he murmured aloud, holding his chin in his hand. "I don't like to think of what the other gods of our court will say, when word get out that we're sending a maiden goddess of my _wife_ to visit my brother's domain. It's unseemly..."

Hera scowled at the implication. "Rubbish," she sniffed dismissively. "Queen Frigg of the Aesir has a maiden that runs her errands - and none call their virtue into question."

The Thunderer snorted at her reply. "That's because said maiden would have her horse trample anyone who dared to say anything against her mistress...no...to persevered you honor, and hers, we'll need a solution..."

Suddenly, his wily eyes gleamed." And I believe I have one. Our court is still in need of an official messenger, is it not?"

Hera's ichor quickened in her veins. "My lord?" she asked, hardly daring to believe it.

Zeus grinned fully at her now, arching a playful brow. "Why so surprised my lady? Wasn't it only a short time ago, when you said to me that _Thaumantias_ could have a larger role to play in the Cosmos, than merely being our errand girl?"

The marriage goddess found that she could hardly speak. "...Thank you, my lord..."

But her husband merely held up his hand. "Don't thank me yet Lady, first we must see if she is-"

But this sentence, the mighty Thunderer never finished.

Suddenly the hall's Herald, a well groomed satyr, appeared at the bronze platted cedar doors; his red hooves clamping on the brightly painted tiles, and announcing his coming long before his physical presence did. And when his rounded-out self did finally appear the great pillars of the Hall grossly distorted his silhouette, causing it to first grow like planted dragon's teeth, before shrinking again to it's humble self.

"M-m-my Lord," the goat-man stammered, bowing so hastily to Zeus, his oak tree wreath nearly silpped off his horns. "Milady-"

He then performed the same for Hera, wisely not daring to meet either of his sovereigns all-seeing gazes. Bending at what must have been an uncomfortable angle, he stuttered, "T-the h-h-handmaiden is-s-s here."

Hera felt her eyebrow lift. That was all? Well it was good that the girl was punctual, but charming as Iris was, she was hardly a figure to inspire the slack-jaw look the satyr -Tumulus- had in his gaze. Curious.

But then again, Tumulus had always been a high-strung servant, one who would find the shade of a mouse to be imposing.

"Well, send her in then," Zeus said, waving a hand impatiently. "We do not have all day."

Tripping over himself, Tumulus, son of Strachys, slowly fumbled his way backwards, bowing lower and lower all the way. "Y-yes, yes my Lord. Right away Lord. And Lady," he added hastily, by this point so bent over that his red beard trialed on the floor. Sitting on her _Thronos,_ tapping a single finger on it's side, Hera was sure that she had never seen a more pathetic display in her Deathless life.

It seemed to take an eon, but eventually the groveling satyr made it end of the hall, pausing only say, "I-If I may b-be so bold, your Majesties? Shield your eyes."

* * *

0)o(0

_Shield your eyes...?_

The Queen of Olympus barely had time to mouthed the words back to herself, before their cause effortlessly swooped into the Hall, and her iridescent light was filling every and every space it could, even as her golden wings fluttered coyly at her monarchs before folding up against their little mistress's shoulders, appearing for all the world to merely be a extension of her honey-gold hair.

Zeus was now seated upright in his _Thronos_, and his eyes clear in their astonished disbelief. The King of the Gods was utterly unable to recoil this gleaming maid of a thousand hubs to the grim faced child-servant he had met on his nuptials, and even more so to the trembling, ragged child-courier dragged before him in disgrace with her family; and in the face of their incompetence, had possessed the sense to toss her lot in with the winning side.

Hera too sat amazed, her hand having flown to her throat, unable to tear her eyes away. The colors, the colors...so many beautiful, glorious colors. Flowing, bending, sifting, changing. Creating. It...it took her back, back to the day, dawn, when she had suddenly found herself freed from the stomach of Cronus, and it's endless nothingness. She remembered what it had been like to first opened her eyes, as mewling and helpless as infant exposed to the elements. Terror had sized hold of her soul instantly. For as horrid as the dark of Cronus was, it had at least been familiar. Hera knew it, had grown to a woman in it, and out of necessity, had learned how to survived it. It hadn't been so difficult. After all, she had not been alone.

And then she had been ripped away from it, from everything she'd every know. The dark she had long grown accustom to had been replaced with light. Burning, scorching light, that was twice as painfully to those who only knew the Dark. She, the youngest daughter of Rhea, the goddess of marriage, the future Queen of Olympus...had sobbed like a child. She had cowered in the dirt, with her white arms wrapped around her, mercifully unaware that she was naked, with only her chestnut waves covering her unseen glory, and persevering her virtue. And when her trembling from was lifted up from the dirt, into unfamiliar arms that were to strong to belong her sisters'...well, that only served to enhanced her horror. Though to be fair, the future Thunderer had thought only to comfort her - without success.

She had wanted to return to the Dark...but then...the colors. The colors.

Such beautiful, glorious colors. When the burning had gone away, which she later understood to be her eyes adjusting, she had seen the _colors_. Form Zeus' arms, Hera had seen the striking azure of the sky, laced with Eos' rouge. She had seen the clouds, in their soft whiteness, so unlike the burning. She had seen the warmth green of the leaves, and yellows and crimsons and violets of the wild flowers that surrounded her. She saw the gold of the sun...and came to learn that in and of itself, it was not a thing to be feared, but _adored._

For the light it provided allowed you to see the colors. See all the marvelous shades, and feel the dawning revelation that _you were alive_.

Until that moment, Hera hadn't understood that fact, hadn't truly known it. And she would never forget it, never forget the utter wonder that realization brings with it. Even when Zeus, pleased and impressed with the rate in which she had calmed herself, had bore her away, calling her _Leukolenos_ with every step.

No...Hera would never forget the colors that had shown her the world.

And she would not lie...at least not to herself, within her own mind. Seeing _Thaumantias, _the daughter of Wonder, coming towards them to stand there before the dais, with ripples of color spreading across the golden silk with every step..._Basileia_ felt for the briefest moment that perhaps it should not be _she_ who was making a pretty bow. And if Iris' Wonder could enchanted Rulers of Heaven to feel so...what would happen then, if they should send her abroad?

Well, one think was absolutely certain. Iris was not destined to solely remain an home-bound servant girl, unheard and unseen before the mortal world. A brief glance at her lord told the Queen that despite himself, he was impressed.

"My honored Lord," Iris murmured eyes respectfully downcast. "My honored Lady. I am here to serve. What is your will?"

Zeus raised an eyebrow, and Hera fought to prevent the upwards tugging of her lips. All that pretty glory, and the wisdom to be humble about it before your superiors. A rare combination if there ever was one.

Yet even so, The Thunderer wasted no time in relying his instructions to her. "_Thaumantias," _he boomed. "The task we lay before you is one of delicacy, and utmost importance. It will take no small amount of wits and charm, a touch of diplomacy...and a man's courage. It is the belief of my wife that despite your tender age, you possess these traits. And should you chose to accept this task - this _quest..._your reward will be glory everlasting, beyond what you ever dreamed."

Zeus' eyes flashed with Power. "Do you accept?"

Hera watched closely as the girl swallowed. Hard. But she did not falter. In a firmer voice than before, the goddess-child replied, "I am here to serve."

"...I'll take that as yes then," Zeus said flatly after a moment had past, and had it not been utterly undignified, Hera would have snorted.

"Very well then," The Thunderer continued. "You quest, Iris _Thaumantias,_ is to venture down to the dominion of Hades _Polyxenos (The Host of Many). _There you shall speak my word to him, and say to the Silent One that it is the order of Zeus, his lord brother, that you be allowed to take the water of the River Styx, and return with it to the surface."

* * *

0)o(0

As the King spoke, Iris' face gradually lost all of it's olive color, replacing it with an unseemly white. She also stumbled a bit, and had to catch herself. Yet even so, Hera was rather optimistic - after all, most servants would have fainted dead away after receiving such task -_quest_\- and have needed reviving before being sent on their way.

But while Iris manage to keep hold of her senses, her large eyes look for all the world as helpless as a newborn fawn. Hera felt a twitch of sympathy, even as she was reach behind her _Thronos_, and pulled from it's shadow what was to be Iris' only aid from them - a red clay _oinochoe, _a water pitcher; one that had been painted with the grim images of mortals being judged by the gods on it's rim. Rising from her seat_, _Hera _Basileia _made her way with elegant steps down the dais, her girdle swinging with every movement of her legs.

Reaching the child, she held out the _oinochoe, _and waited with mild impatience for the girl to take it. When at last Iris did, Hera lifted her hand, and took hold of the child-goddess' round chin.

"Listen carefully Iris," The Queen firmly addressed her Handmaid, "When you collect the water, you mustn't allow it to touch your skin, nor must you think to it drink. You mustn't take_ any_ food or drink in that place, or your stay there as Hades' guest will be a good long while. And we will be powerless to retrieve you. Listen not to the cries of the souls, nor give then anything...they are beyond help."

With that, Hera released her. "We expect nothing less than success," the goddess called, and the girl walked away towards the doors, her radiance somewhat dimmed. "So I suggest you begin with the help of Forethought."

* * *

_Review make me happy, so tell me what you thought and I'll update sooner. Sorry it took so long. But I'm in collage now and that has to come first._

_Well take about one heck of a first mission - I figure the use of the Styx water had to start somewhere early in the regin of Zeus. Specking of Zeus, I tried to show a softer side to his and Hera's marriage...their had to be some reason he was willing to marry her instead of just Queening her. Angry affection I thought, was a good way to put it._

_And as for Hera...how was her thoughts, on how she felt when she came into the world?_

_P.S...does anyone know who Forethought is?_


	11. The Advantages of Foresight

FluffyClutchie : Thank you, I try to be picky about words.

Harmony-Caprice: Here you go!

Guest: Heres the update!

Carolina who: Thanks, the devils in the details.

RilianeD'Autrich: Well I do!

Anastasia The Goddess of Drama:Yes, angry affection...it works for them.

melina49: Your Greek? Then I'm so glad you love this story! Thank you!

Thanatos77 :Iris has to get truth giving water from he underworld.

TheDarkKunoichi: Well, we'll have to wait and see! And no, Hermes isn't born yet.

nlgirl17: You flatter me. And I'm so glad your drawn to Hera's character.

Vanessa Masters :Foresight is indeed Prometheus! And yes, like all quest, it is very, very dangerous.

PlunnyBreeder:Don't worry, we'll see more of the satyr...

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0)o(0

chapter XI

Hera's parting words rebounded like lightening within her handmaiden's skull, with all the inescapable finality of the _Moirai. _And it was all the rainbow goddess could do to not collapse on the floor in a witless heap of horror. Attempting -and she feared failing- to keep her expression emotionless and dutiful as a soldier's bronze beaten helm as it _should _ be, before Olympus' exulted Lord and Lady, it nevertheless took an unfortunate amount of her Power to ward off the darkness that invaded her vision when the Thunderer condemned her to this task..._quest_.

Moverover, she feared that the effort of maintaining that false serenity had ruined all the effects of her entrance, and left her looking more like a trembling little heifer calf, rather than the well matured goddess she'd intend for them to see.

_So much for having a man's courage. _

That was the one, self deprecating thought that successfully wormed it's way through the soft surface of her petrified mind. Her hands fumbled like timorous doves as they grasped the _oinochoe's _slim, snake-molded handles, irrationally fearful that they might bite her.

Drawing in a breath, the handmaiden pressed her rose colored lips together as she turned around and walked back to the halls towering doors, eager to be rid of such foolish thinking. Clay could not hurt her...and if she had any sense, she would be instead be concerning herself with the many,_ many,_ things that could (and would) harm her bodily on the way and in the realm of DOMOS HAIDOU _(the House of Hades)_.

There were many goods reasons why the mortals who dwell on green Gaia feared to think, never mind _say_, the true name of the elder brother of Zeus. Iris remembered him well: and far better than goddess-maiden would have liked, had the choice been left to her. she remembered him from the darkest days of the _Titanomakhia. _She had never spoken at length to him...well, if one didn't could pleading to set free, when _Awides (the Unseen One)_ had, by the means of his all cloaking helm, had found her toddler-self in the hollowed ruins of her father's house, after Poseidon's forces had invaded.

And after he'd laid waste to their home with earth tremors and the dreaded liquid fire, toppling and scorching the pavilions' proud pillars of alabaster and pearl, cracking it's marble foundations, while carrying all the household the invades could catch in bronze chains fitted around their wrists and necks. Like common mortal slaves.

And not even its Queen-Mistress had been spared this fate, though before she had been sundered from her husband's halls, Electra had taken pains to conceal her eldest daughter, her prised treasure, from the same barbarous marauders -skillfully hiding her in a patch of seaweed that grew in the garden.

When all was said and done, and all the screams had faded, the resulting silence had actually been more frightening to Iris. So much so, that it wasn't long before her own miserable sobs had filled the space, when she dared to come out into the desolate and broken hall. Sobs that had turned into shrikes of terror when a unseen, and unheard, force unceremoniously plunked her up, and tossed her over his shoulder like a small, squirming bundle of barley; muttering the whole time on how his brother was too much an lazy oaf to double check his work, and never failed to leave something behind for _him_ to fix.

Terrified that an _Umbrau_ (a shade) was going to eat her, Iris had cried and wept and used all the charming words she knew at the time to try and win her release...only to find that the future Giver of Wealth had a heart that could neither be moved with pity nor swayed with enticements. And while Iris could begrudgingly admit that Pluton had not been unfair to her -he had after all corrected her on the nature of her captor, when she'd asked, and dryly assured her that it was not his duty to eat her- it hadn't change the inevitable fact that it was by _his_ duty that she had been delivered to the feet of the Thunderer's war-camp; condemned to either find a way to serve Zeus...or otherwise perish with the rest of the old order.

And that for the finding of Thaumas' only unaccounted for daughter, Pluton had been giving the reward of yet another epithet by his King: _Agesander (Carrier)._

Looking back, it was plain to see that even then, Zeus had known better to than to cross his eldest brother. Of his loyalty, Zeus could not afford doubt, so great was his power. So in a way, she had the Ruler of Many to thank for her task in the first place.

This wasn't a very comforting thought -and somehow the rainbow goddess highly doubted that the months _Polysemantor_ had spent adjusting to his underground lair had warmed his nature any (and she equally disbelieved that her reappearance into his life would -the odds were more than likely that he would _resent_ her, seeing that the favor and bounty he'd earned for himself in finding Iris had been the last received by him, before the Lots of the World had been drawn...and Cronus' eldest son was dethroned of his rights by his own younger brothers (oh _why_ hadn't Queen Hera thought of this?).

After all...down there he was Zeus, and one of his many titles was _Eubulus_ _(Giver of Good Counsel)._

...So how, by the great earth mother, was she suppose to "charm" the famously grim god into giving over an assent that only he, apparently, had access too?

...She didn't know. By Gaia, Iris didn't know.

* * *

0)o(0

"Lady Iris? Lady Iris? M-My Lady."

Embarrassingly, it was only on the third time the voice called to her attention that Iris could say she heard it. Blinking, the handmaiden was snapped out of her ghost-like trance of shadows and past, and returned to the living reality of the hall outside of the Zeus Kronides' _Thronos_ Room.

Turning to her right, the rainbow goddess saw that before her was the satyr-herald, whose hooves she had just about frighten off when she had first arrived, looking a bit more recovered than when he lasted looked upon _Thaumantias..._though admitting, that wouldn't be so very hard to do. The poor goat man had given such a start at first, that one would have thought Iris was one of the Titans, escaped from the pit with wrath and fire to seek vengeance, instead of merely being their Queen's unimportant little _doule_ _(servant girl)_.

To dive home the point, the goat man still looked rather timid as he approached what was technically his better; his hooves pit-pattering nervelessly on the leaping-bull tiles...almost as though what he were doing, was being done against his better judgement. (The looks on the faces of his fellow satyr-brothers seemed to agree with him, to the point where it bordered on cruel mockery, as satyrs' were prone to be now and again.) But this didn't change the fact that he approached her nonetheless.

"My Lady, you looked aggrieved...like nymph who has forgotten how to dance," he said carefully. "Is...is there anything a satyr might do for you?"

Something in the goddess-maiden twitched at that -and she was certain that it was the hope-in-the-box, foolishly stroked to life by the goat-man's noble, if utterly uselessly offer. She was about to shake her head, and tell him no...when the thought occurred to her that yes...there was a task that he could do for her, to ease her burden.

So firmly, the goddess maiden nodded her bright, honey-colored head. "Yes," she said slowly, the violet in her eye gleaming. "There is -if you would be so kind, sir, could you please escort me to the living quarters of Lord Prometheus, Foresighted son of Iapetus?"

* * *

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Quite frankly, Iris had well expected the shape gasps this drew from the goat-men around her, their impish faces paling with dread at the nature of her request. The poor satyr who had asked for it -Tumulus, if she wasn't mistaken- was looking at her as though a peacock of Hera's had just perched itself on the handmaiden's head.

"..._Oh_ _my l-l-lady_," he stuttered, eyes frantic and his head shaking so hard, that the curls of his beard coiled even tighter. "Oh my lady n-no. This is...what you ask is impossible. Lord Prometheus quarters'...they are outside the _gynaikeion. _You might be the Queen's favored, but she would not forgive you the dishonor this would cause, if you did this thing, and you were caught. Think it not Lady Iris. Ask it not of m-m-_me_."

"I know Tumulus," Iris assured him, trying her best to keep her tone light, coaxing, and utterly innocent. With gentle care, she stepped between the satyr and his kindred, cutting off their influence, and making him focus entirely on her. _Diaírei kaì basíleue,_ as the Olympians often proclaimed. _Divide and Rule. _

Under normal circumstances, the goat-man would be absolutely right in his response to her. In other circumstance's, Iris would never have asked it. In all the time she had been on Olympus, the Handmaiden to Hera had never departed from the extensive woman's _gynaikeion (female space) _of the highest ranking Olympian ladies; where they lived and conducted their duties, and their female servants did the same.

Gaia's blood...even _before_ she had been taken to Olympus, Iris had never been allowed outside of the woman's quarters -the space set entirely aside for the women of any well-off, respected household. It simply wasn't done. Certainly, there were moments of going out, like the trip down to the stream to wash clothes, but even then, they had took roads to avoid the men-servants.

It was funny...but the only time Iris had been ever been let out of this delicate cage of house chores and spinning golden wool was when she was serving Lord Zeus during the war, relying his messages to his allies. Needless to say of course, that time of running and flying and being expose to a world rendering itself to pieces had been absolutely terrorizing -terrorizing beyond all reason and imagining.

But.._. it also had been thrilling;_ like a child who dare to peek behind a curtain, brave enough to want see what lay behind it...and bring a little bit of color back to a dark and defiled space. And that_ trill_ was returning now...gods above, she must've been weaving linen in the Loom Room for too long. What else could cause her to suddenly think of this mad adventure before her in terms akin to..._cautious optimism?_

"The Queen has given me permission to venture there this one time," she tactfully lied...well, not really lied now, was it? Hera had _told her_ to seek out Foresight. "No harm will come to me -especially with an escort. Will you please help me?"

"I-are you _certain_, Lady Iris?" Tumulus stressed. "Certain beyond all doubt? If you ask it of me, I must do it as you will...but your fate must not be on my psyche."

Iris lifted her chin, and offered the goat-man a skillfully painted smile of charm and confidence that she certainly didn't feel, at least not _all_ the way through. But what she had would have to be enough. "I am sure."

Tumulus' licked his lips. "T-then...it is not safe now...come this evening, when the men of the halls are away. I shall do as you command."

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"Now my lady, it is _imperative_ that you remain absolutely silent," Tumulus warned her in a fast whisper, as they crept down the mostly vacant men's halls like robbers. It was almost as thought the satyr's words were afraid to be caught with them, and so burst free in a great rush. "Queen's permission or no-"

"I _know_, Tumulus," Iris replied, once again. For the shake of politeness, she tried to keep an edge out of her voice...the last thing she needed was for the goat-man to scamper off, if he did so, then she'd surely never find her way out of here. "The fewer people who know I'm here the better. But do we really have to be so careful? All the men are outside in the training grounds, receiving _**agōgē**_ by the hand of Chiron..."

"Yes and thank all the gods for it. And that satyrs are exempted from that," Tumulus shuddered. "Move quickly now."

Iris held back a sigh...as well as a pointed comment on how it was _him_ who could move no faster that poor Chelone's new form. And that if she never heard the word "imperative" "silent" or "move quickly" again, it would be all too soon.

How could one be so...panic stricken? Especially when nothing had gone wrong with their plans yet? Iris truly wondered at it. She had never meet such a satyr before. Most, while admittedly rather sly in older age, and lusty in young age, were content to blindly follow a decision once they chosen it. But_ this_ one seemed to rethink every last half-step he trotted, before he'd even _took_ it. To distract herself from this frustration, Iris focused curiously on the men's halls about her.

Admittedly, they weren't so very different from the woman's halls, at least in the way they had been created. The halls were all of the same limestone design, sturdily built upon the Mountain with bronze foundations, while surrounded by a host of cloistered courtyards with golden pavements. The only things that really differed here were the paintings that covered the walls.

In the woman's quarters the imagery of dancing, child rearing, and loom work adorned their living space with flowing grace...while _here,_ the dancing and music pictures were alotted in part, but instead of peaceful family life the images of the war, ones that Iris remembered well (and couldn't forget if she tried) were displayed in all their glory. Of shields smashing, spears breaking, and warriors overcoming each other in bloody dominance...in which Zeus was ruler of all.

Also different were that in the woman's quarters, the small of perfume had always lingered in the air..._melia_ blossoms, and the white lilies called _krinon_, or even _libanos-_frankincense, imported by the winds from Arabia...but here the smell was different. It was like...well, Iris didn't rightfully _know_ what it was like. But it was different.

But they were similar in that the smell of burnt meat offerings to the high Olympians hung about the blazers, a constant sign of respect.

"Alright my lady, Lord Prometheus' rooms are directly at the end of this hall, in the courtyard of the high ranking lords," Tumulus told her after turning a few more corners. He sounded immensely relived, and stood up straighter. Reaching out a hand, he pressed it to the handmaiden's back to hustle her forward. "He is exempted from **_agōgē _**by Lord Zeus on account of his studies, so then you'll-"

But as _Moirai_ would have it, this would be where their luck began to turn on them. Tumulus wound up pushing Iris directly into the bronze stomach of a fully armored _Oros,_ who judging from his newly bandaged arm, had been forced to return early from training. He was a towering primordial god of the mountains, older than its foundations, and just as strong and burly.

And utterly astonished.

Iris felt her own stomach drop to somewhere around her ankles, while her heart went to her throat. Poor Tumulus on the other hand was so pale, he looked as though he wanted nothing more than to just lie down upon his own funeral pyre, have the torch dropped himself, and let it be done with -then and there.

_Oh dear._

_"_In the name of_-" _the Oros gasped out lord, his voice like the tumble of a land side that sometimes buried a mortal village, his onyx-brown eyes bugled in outrage from the slots of his helm. "What is _this_?!"

Iris open her mouth instinctively to reply, to lie really...but here the satyr surprised her, for he quickly reached out again and pulled the goddess maiden so that she was half behind him, half besides him; a calculated moved she realized, executed carefully as to not outright challenged the armor clad deity, but yet provide _some_ measure of protection, and guardianship even, for herself.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't thankful. Oros were old gods, stubborn and unmovable in the great Mother's ordained ways. Their duty now was to preserve the honor of DOMOS OLYMPUS...as thoroughly as they defended their own households.

"O great lord of the mountain," Tumulus intoned desperately, hands clasped before him like a common mortal beggar. "Mighty son of the m-most Excellence Gaia, who is the sweet m-m-Mother of things. Great in war, sure welder of the s-s-shield and _doru-"_

_"By my mother's blood," _the Oros snarled like a boar, his thick bead catching the flecks of his spit (the rest landing on the victims who didn't even reach his knee in height). "Silence your tongue before I remove it!"

Tumulus' mouth closed with an audible snap. Then the Oros eyes narrowed. "You are the Herald of the_ Thronos_ Hall."

It wasn't a question -accusation would be the more appropriate term. Tumulus swallowed, the apple in his throat bobbing painfully. "Well, I..." he faltered, "it's only a part time occupation really-"

"And_ you_," the Oros said turning to Iris. "You are the handmaiden to _Basileia _Hera."

Iris nodded at once, quickly perceiving that like most of his kind, this mountain lord respected both honesty and firm duty. "Yes, my lord," Iris said promptly, hands folded demurely at her waist. She raised her voiced an octave, and widened her eyes to seem as youthfully earnest as possible. "I am."

"...What business does a handmaiden have, sneaking about the men's halls with a satyr?" the Oros asked sternly, "Your honor, and your Queen's, demands that your hands belong at your loom, young _parthenos,_ not in seeking your own delights. In the days you have been here, you have not struck me as a wanton fool."

Iris felt her limbs turn to water with relief at the honorable title bestowed to her, as well as the scolding tone of his voice- one that promised lecture, but not destruction. _He must be a father,_ she thought. _With an unusually rebellious daughter. _Besides them, the goat-man had relaxed a little too, sensing the same thing.

"Yes, my lord," she replied. "I-"

"And _you_," the Oros snarled, whirling upon Tumulus, who shrank back. "Who are _you_, to take a fatherless girl from the halls of your Most Excellent Mistress?!"

Yep, most definitely a father.

Unfortunately, at this point Tumulus couldn't form a replied if his life depended on it -which it very well could, under the circumstances. Alarmed, Iris stuck her courage to the sticking place and stepped forward.

"Oh my lord," she began pleadingly. "I-"

"Now what is this? A rehearsal for a new comedy?" This voice that spoke now was entire different from the three that had so far been exchanged in the corner -it was light, well at ease, and _amused_. A voice with power.

Almost as one body, one face, the three of them turned to look upon the forth member to join their little gathering. And they saw before them a lord tall and steady, with a blue _chlamys_ folded neatly around his shoulders over a homespun chition, that matched the simple saddles he wore, the end of the cloak draped elaborately over one arm.

The god's mischievous gray eyes peered at the scene before him with acute intelligence, shown clear to them with the hind-strip headband holding back curls that were a shade too light to be considered brown. They sent a chill down the spine.

Those were eyes, Iris perceived with some awful insight, feeling rather exposed before thier grayness, that knew more about this occurrence and its circumstances without evening having inquire about it. (She wasn't sure if this was a good turn of fortune or not).

There was no doubt about it, however, to her mind. This was Prometheus. And the Oros confirmed her thoughts.

"My lord Foresight," the mountain deity rumbled, bowing low. "Far-seeing son of Iapetus. This need not concern you. I have apprehend this rouge carrying off a _doule _of _Basileia_ _Leukolenos-"_

But at this, Prometheus tossed back his bearded head, and roared with laughter. "_Tumulus,_ carry off a handmaiden?" the god gasped out in pure mirth. "My good Oros, I'd sooner be worry that a _rabbit_ would carry off a maiden than him."

"This is so my lords," Tumulus chimed in, having found his voice again, now that it had an additional and more powerful ally. Standing a little taller, he added, "The Lady Iris had been sent here on the business of the Queen."

"To the _men's_ halls?" the Oros said in perfect disbelief.

"Yes," Tumulus answered firmly. "I am her escort."

The Oros face curled up like it smelled something bitter, but he did nothing, as Prometheus merely raised a sandy eyebrow. "You have heard him Oros," the god proclaimed. "...this seems to be my affair now. I commend you for your duty."

After a moment, the Oros bowed. "Yes my lord."

Then he departed, though not before giving Tumulus one final glare, that succeed in its goal of turning the goat-man deathly pale again.

"You'll have to excuse the man," Prometheus explained to the satyr in a rather calm, orderly fashion; he himself being as unperturbed by this new developments as a dew drop, that formed on tree-leaves following the rainstorm. "One of your brethren nearly carried off his daughter last year, so now he is on guard with all of you."

Tumulus flushed at that, but didn't look surprise. So he nodded once, and cleared his throat at that.

"...G-good to known, m-my lord," he managed to squeak out.

The god of Foresight chuckled again, and looked as though he had just feasted on a rather satisfying meal at a fine banquet. But then the merriment of the moment apparently passed the end of its life thread. So as soon as it was sheared, he turned, and focused his clever gaze directly on Iris, who struggled to match it.

"So little _Thaumantias," _he told her, not kindly. "Why don't the three of us retire to my chambers, and there, we'll discuss this business of Hera _Basileia_? _Hmm_?"

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Reviews make me happy, so tell me what you thought and I'll update sooner.

Sorry for the hiatus, I gave up greek mythology for the Lent Easter season, and then I just wait for the right idea. So how was this, Iris' first thoughts on her task, and the first steps she takes to complete it. And how do you like how I write the male characters in this story -I want them to be true to their time era and be three demential. How was poor Tumulus?


	12. Promethean Hospitality

Fluffy Clutchie :Thank you, I've been reading a lot of Homer recently and doing a lot of research, I want this to potentially become a story rather than fanfiction.

CaptSwan05 :Bringing the old myths to life you say? Thank you, I'm so flattered! Yes, I'm fond of characters who are behind the scenes, watchful and interested. I always felt Iris had a story to be told. P.S. I love your ideas for actors, can you think of one for Prometheus?

nlgirl17: I'm glad you like Prometheus, and I hope you like him here...I molded him after some famous Greek and Roman philosophers. I hope it shows.

Guest: Thank you very much for complimenting my work, I'm so glad you enjoyed it.

Vanessa Masters : Well, it's not Hades so much as the Underworld and the getting to it that's bad...Odysseus, Aeanas, Theseus (a lot of eus's) and Psyche would all testified to that.

metalcharis5: Hermes would appear until later, he is the second to youngest of the Olympians...but I promise, he'll make a big splash when he comes.

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chapter: XII

Still smiling, Far-seeing Prometheus calmly lead his newly acquired party down the hall with the full dignity of guests -a lovely and poignant contrast to the sneaking and hustling of their early status that evening. Now securely under the law of _Xenia_ (_hospitality),_ Iris and Tumulus were free to walk besides their host without shame. The goddess-maiden had such a delight in her heart at this, that is showed plainly with every bouncing step. Tumulus too, had his cautious trots lighten somewhat, by the honor bestowed to them -and more so the protection it offered.

With this in mind, both parties were almost disappointed when their destination was reached, and Lord Prometheus graciously ushered them over the cedar threshold of his residence. Of course, both parties were either too well trained -in Iris' case- or valued their skin to much -in the goat-man's case- to even think of allowing their feelings to be know. So with equal grace, they entered, and were quite sincerely awed by the elaborated display of organized chaos that meet their sense of sight.

Lord Prometheus' chambers had apparently been designed with the thought of the god's famed intellectual pursuits well in-mind -and _Thaumantias _thought that perhaps he had even contribute to the construction himself. Built in the shape of a long rectangle, the wall that should have been facing west was entirely absent altogether, with pillars of stone residing in its stead -leading outside to a well maintained herbal garden; from which the scents of mint and saffron mingled amidst multiply others, before moving forward to tease their noses, like the most shameless of_ h__etairai__. _On the remaining three walls, murals of history were drawn with a skilled hand, recalling their story from creation, tracing the linages of the gods, while statues carved in their likeness were set in a group to the side.

Meanwhile on various gold-lauded tables of ivory and ebony, scrolls of leather bounded _papyrus _were pilled atop one another in a neat mess, in some cases spilling over the sides, like the various leaves of potted plants that stood in the corners. Iris saw that some of the unrolled scrolls were the Lord of Foresight's own observations, for the ink upon them was still wet, the_ kalamos_ _(reed pen)_ laying aside...most likely set down when its owner arose to see what the commotion in the hall was about. Part workshop and part library, the only objects in the spacious apartment to suggest that this was a occasional a sleeping place was the fact that a humble frame bed -identical to Iris'- stood besides a refection pool that was stationed beneath a square skylight...so that even when resting, the Titian could gaze upon the endless wonders of the cosmos.

And as they moved into the space over green painted tiles, the guest admiringly observed that the heavens' beauty had not gone unappreciated by Foresight, as the god had carefully chiseled the ceiling in _Urania's _likeness. In all her life, Iris had never seen a room more appropriate for it's inhabitant.

"It's a work in progress," Lord Prometheus saw fit to inform them. "And I must confess, I am usually alone...and rarely entertain visitors. So please, come in. And pardon the mess."

"Of course my Lord," the guests parroted as one, head bowing reverently, with hands out-reached.

Their host nodded wryly, and with a wave of his hand, summoned a low table to manifest itself, with a plate of well cooked goose set temptingly in its center, besides bowels of figs and cheese, and a humble folding stool to rest besides it.

With a crook eyebrow and indulging smile, the light haired god motioned for his guests to sit upon his own bed, while he himself took the stool. Bowing again, both Iris and Tumulus did as they were bided -thinking well that there were few orders given that could be more pleasant.

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...According to the laws of _Xenia, _it was a matter of immediate honor that both a guest and a host be -and remain- respectful towards one another. A guest must not, under any circumstances, make himself a burden, vulgar, or ungenerous, to one who'd taken a leap of trust in allowing either a stranger or a friend into his living-domain. And a host, likewise, could not take advantage of those he had placed under his protection.

Also, it was rude beyond measure for either party to have dialog or discussions before the meal provided was finished -so in accordance to this, and the hurried affair of their quest, the goat-man and rainbow goddess chose for themselves the smallest helpings that they could without being disrespectful...and it helped that Prometheus Ever-Prudent proved himself to be far-sighted indeed, in having prepared a small meal for them to start with.

To be honest, all three of them were a little rude in their haste for separate reasons...the guests for wanting to hurry to explain their quest, and their gray-eyed gazed host for his curiosity to hear it. In almost no time at all, the rainbow goddess found herself washing down the goose with a sip of ambrosial nectar; and joyously praising the virtue of her most generous host.

"You are most gracious to your servants, my Lord," she demurred honestly, with glowing eyes -a trick she had learned from her mother, and perfected in the tutelage of Echo. The best way into someone's regard and favor was to praise them when they honestly did good deserving of it. "This meal was_ splendid_."

Tumulus nodded ardently in firm agreement, and all traces of nervousness at last gone from him. "Indeed," he thundered. "And I've never one in a finer room."

"I thank you kindly, young ones," Prometheus replied mildly, stroking his beard as he lifted his bronze _kotylos; _a drinking cup specifically for the hosting of guests, characterized by its deep bowl, tall pedestal foot, and pair of high-swung handles which extend above the lip of the pot. He stroked stroking his beard thoughtfully. "It been a while since I've played the Host. I feared I would be a tad rusty."

"Well, that is a fear unfounded," the handmaiden declared grandly, and raising her _kotyle (female wine-cup)_, she poured for Prometheus a joyful libation to reflect her gratitude. Of course, _Thaumantias_ was aware that as a minor goddess, her offering would have very little power to give. But to Lord Prometheus' credit, he inclined his head in acknowledge all the same.

Still, this didn't prevent him from leaning forward, a shrewd gleam from shinning like fire in his silver gaze, burning away all impurities. "All the same, I'm sure you didn't risk your reputations -and existence, in your case Tumulus- just to enjoy my hospitality...sweet thought though that be. Tell me now...what earned of the _Basileia _has sent you to me?"

As he spoke, his eyes fell upon the_ oinochoe_ that the handmaiden had tied to her belt, his thoughts unreadable. Iris slowly begun to bite her lip, her fingers lightly tracing the black-glazed doves that had been painted on her _kotyle_.

"You will have to ask the Lady Iris, my Lord," Tumulus said apologetically, spreading his hands. "I am merely her servant."

"Indeed," Prometheus muttered softly, before turning to Iris expectantly, once more lifting his eyebrow. Iris hesitated, measuring and choosing her words with the greatest of care.

"My Lord...I don't believe I'm at liberty to be completely frank with you," she began. "By both the impactions of my Queen, and the nature of the task -which I barely understand myself. So to be brief..." here she swallowed, and force herself not to look at the floor. "If one were to seek a audience with the Rich One...what is the quickest way to his domain? And the safest?"

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The reactions of her companions was instantaneous; Tumulus choked on the sip of nectar he'd been swallowing, causing it's golden loveliness to splattered in a most _undignified_ fashion onto the remains of their meal (this being a prime example of why all discussions waited until_ after_ they ate.) Meanwhile, Lord Prometheus had straightened in his seat as though struck by one of the Thunderer's lightening bolts, his noble features clear in their utter astonishment.

An astonishment that soon changed into weary acknowledge, as the god slowly thought it over, theories passing into and out of his sight, before his expression turned very grave indeed...but he kept his inner most thoughts to himself, so Iris was powerless to know what conclusion Foresight had so obviously drawn for himself.

Tumulus was not nearly so composed. "The _Underworld?!" _the goat-man squeaked, his courage shrinking like a leaf fallen from a tree. "M-my Lady...please...you can n-not be serious! Their divine Majesties could not have asked this off you!"

As he spoke, the satyr became more impassionate, his voice rising with his terror, even as his words became worthy of an orator:"You are the Queen's _doule,_ a_ pais,_ an untouched _parthénos!" _he cried,_ "_Given in honor by the King's own b-brother! H-how could they ask this of you, when they have_ h-hundreds_ of servants at their disposal?"

"Tumulus, lower your voice and rule yourself," Lord Prometheus warned him sternly. "Exclaiming such things for all of Olympus to hear about will hardly help in these matters...it is clear that whatever task this is, _Basilieus_ Zeus and his Queen had apparently decided that only _Thaumantias _is worthy to be entrusted with it..."

Here, the god gave Iris an acknowledging tilt of his head, and his smile became dry, and ironical. "I suppose you are to be congratulated, young handmaiden -this quest could very well become your first step into a larger world...if you succeed that is."

The goddess maiden nodded solemnly, and indicated for the Titan Lord to carry on. And he did though, Foresight rose from his seat, and moved over to one of his tables to shuffle though his scrolls, evidently searching for a certain one in particular.

"Unfortunately child," he remarked as he searched, "Much of the Underworld is shroud in mystery. We Deathless Ones have only been permitted the faintest of guesses as to the realm's full scoop and riches...its King much prefers it that way. Pluton was always intense when it came to his kingdom's security...I'd imagine he'd wants no mischief so near to where Cronus and the others are being held. I'm afraid that there is little help_ I_ can personally give in that regard...only one Olympian has even been down there-"

"Zeus, correct?" Iris mused out-loud, her rose-colored lips pouting thoughtfully. Without knowing it, her feet had begun to swing, the toes of her sandals barely touching the floor. "He went down to rescue the cyclopes and the Hundred-Hand Ones from where Uranus imprisoned them -and where Cronus had refused to released them. And in return, they gave him the lightening bolt."

Prometheus looked pleasantly surprised. "You know your _Titanomakhia_ events well, young Iris."

The goddess child shrugged modestly. "I was there in the camp when Lord Zeus returned with his uncles. It was hard not to notice them."

"I would imagine a hundred hands would be hard to hide," Tumulus muttered to himself.

"Anyhow," Foresight continued. "Thankfully, Zeus Thunderer saw fit to have his lover Mnemosyne write down his exploits for prosperity...ah, here it is."

Triumphant, the Titan toke up a scroll labeled Τιτανομαχία _(Titanomachy)_ in hand, before unrolling it briefly in order to make certain that this volume was the one he'd desired. Then Foresight delicately tied it back up, and handed it to Iris.

"Once your in the Underworld," the god explained as Iris prudently tucked the scroll into the _oinochoe,_ for safe keeping._ "_Books XVIII to XX will hopefully assisted you in avoiding any traps or pitfalls set up in that place...though as for getting there...that's a tad harder."

But judging from the gleaming in his eye, the Titan Lord loved the challenged of it.

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"Now," the fair haired god said, "As part of the deal when the Lots were drawn, King Zeus was obliged -at Lord Pluton's request- to erase any and all mentions of the entrances to _Katachthonios_ residing in literature..."

And perhaps it was Iris imagining things, but the goddess-maiden thought that for a moment, she could see Lord Prometheus' mouth tighten with disapproval as he said this, though the Titan was far to clever to allow it to linger long...if the look had indeed been there at all, the rainbow goddess reflected with doe-eyed admiring.

"_But_," Prometheus injected, a finger pointed towards the heavens like a lawyer making his closing argument. "Not even their Majesties could erase all the folk lore regarding _Erebus..._many stories linger. Some say that the entrance to the Underworld lies in a crater...others say it lies in the dead west, far out to sea..."

"Would that mean that there are more than o-one entrance to the Land Below, m-my Lord?" Tumulus inquired timidly, looking curious, despite himself; like a child, who was both enthralled and terrified by a late night ghost story.

Prometheus seemed pleased with the goat-man's decision to involve himself. "It would not surprise me if that were the case...after all, a realm the size of Pluton's would have multiply doors...unfortunately, few of them swing both ways...the folk tales I've gathered speak of only two, indirectly at that. It's secret is guard by the spirits of a slain river gods, brothers, who linger after being murdered by the Titans -one in his tower, upon a violation of _Xenia_, and the other upon the battlefield near Mont Othrys, where the younger brother attempted to right the wrong."

"I'll go to the battlefield then," Iris said quickly, paling at the thought of entering an already defiled home...a battlefield was much preferably. Prometheus nodded approvingly at the rainbow goddess' choice. But then his face became very grave. "Hear my words Iris _Thaumantias_," the son of Iapetus told her grimly. "This journey to _Katachthonios _is not one to be taken lightly...or at all, if can be helped. But since it can not, heed this advice. Though the war is over, the outside world is still unrecovered from the effects of it; the land is jagged and unwelcoming, and in the shadows of it's mountains and woods hides the remains of Cronus' hoplites and monsters; who'd be more than willing to take their revenge on Olympian maiden. Child you can not undertake this quest alone, you must have companions."

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Alright people, so Iris is nearly ready to being her quest for the Styx's waters, she just needs to chose a few under the radar persons to come with her. Anyone have a guess as to who they will be? Also, how did you like the formalities of _Xenia_, which were so important to the old Greek myths, did I portray it well?


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